I bought a bread machine that looked like it had been used once today for $4. So I picked up some flour and yeast and am making bread. The machine is super squeaky on the “mix” cycle. But I have high hopes. I have often stuck my nose up at bread machines as I like the hand crafting that is involved in kneading and mixing but some days it would be nice to just throw some flour in a machine and come back to fresh baked bread. Mmmm… Like today.
I’m achy from skiing this weekend. I never downhill skied until last year, and that was something most people couldn’t believe, given that I grew up in a state where some students literally took off all winter to hit the slopes and that was okay by school standards. My awesome ski instructor, a dear friend, decided that when I first went that I was too hardcore for the bunny hill and took me straight to the top of a green circle trail where she showed me the ropes. She has been skiing her whole life and taught four year olds for many, many years. Apparently, I took to it “like a fish to water,” but I think she was just an awesome teacher. The “wahoos!” and “good jobs” and “make a rainbow and PULL yourself UP!” and “squish that spider in your booth with your calf!” really made the experience totally worthwhile.
This past Saturday night was my third time on the slopes. My amazing friend and teacher and loner of equipment was there to cheer me on and, again, was very proud of my abilities. Apparently, I instinctively carve when I want to stop and my turns are nice and parallel. I like downhill skiing because it is one of the first times I’ve ever instinctively understood physics and my body — which is a huge deal for me. I am probably the most clutziest person known to man: I’m always covered in bruises from running into things and watching me try to dance makes people want to cry. Left from right? Huh? Syncopated beats? I think that was your foot… Whoops! So, the fact that I’ve been able to pick up swimming and now skiing in my adult life makes me think that I can understand my body somewhat some day and maybe I’m not always going to be a gawky, awkward gal.
This is not me. I was not brave enough to use poles this time. I was afraid I would poke my eyes out.
Downhill skiing is like swaying down the snow. You press your weight this way, you turn your foot this way, you go faster, you go slower, you glideeeeeeeeeeee along. I don’t like speed yet because I’m still not 100% comfortable with my control and I’m afraid of taking out a poor little kid. Oof but I love it! I’m totally saving up for downhill equipment. By the end of the night I was spending longer on the lift then on the slope. I was inspired and brought my cross country skis back from home (not that that is anything LIKE downhill, but it’s the equipment I have). I just want to be out there with my nose red from cold and my cheeks looking like China dolls. This winter has been so beautiful! I love the cold on my upper thighs and green pines peaking out from snowy icing.
So, yah, doing well. Very well. My sadness has dissipated. Or rather shifted focus. I am no longer sad that I am “alone” — alone meaning with all my amazing friends and family members and coworkers and random acquaintances… I am sad that my once amazing partner let his narcissism get the best of him. My ex has always had a hint of narcissistic behaviors. He loved to look at himself in the mirror. He liked to make himself the center of attention. He often complained about how much smarter he was then others – comparing himself to people like Chris Langan … he failed because he was a misunderstood genius; that he was smarter than his teachers and they didn’t like him because of that. He was terrible gift giver because he never really thought about what would make people smile or happy, and he always took other people’s time for granted – often being late for appointments, spending excessive amounts of time changing or getting ready for thing, and doing things waaaay past the deadline. But he use to do things for others when they needed help, so I could stomach the narcissism. He genuinely tried to help people out when they were feeling down – he got me to go to counseling when my depression was hard hitting. He was there when friends needed a drive to the airport or hospital. Now I wonder how self serving his intentions were but I’m going to believe in my heart they were true.
I just want to DO that hottie down there!
These past two years when his ego was shot to hell by multiple failures, so I think he started to spend all his time with those who admired him and made him feel good and nonthreatening. Often much younger and who knew little about him. The kind, caring man I knew started to snarl and grow impatient with things that bothered him, with not succeeding or accumulating greatness, which was very unnerving. Then, he would get upset when I confronted him with the unkindness that he had been showing me and tried to hide things from me rather than address the problems. The manner in which he dealt with our breakup was the final straw that showed his narcissism had taken completely over. Unwilling to take a single shard of blame for letting our relationship hit a low point, it was “we’ve grown apart,” “we don’t know who we are anymore,” and “we are just incompatible” followed by “you are a wonderful woman,” “I care about you so much,” and “I hate seeing what I do to you.” Yet so many inconsistencies with his actions and words. “Sure, I’ll go to a conuseling appointment because this relationship means so much to me,” and then when I let him know how much his intimate emotional relationship with another woman is bothering me “I can’t limit the time I spend with another girl because that would be like thought crime!” And then after the breakup: “I hope you remain in my life in some way for years to come,” and yet not a peep, and the times I’ve tried to contact him “me, me, me,” not a single “hey, how are you? Uh, thank you for the past amazing seven years of my life. And I’m sorry I decided that I’m not ready for a relationship right now in my dirty dishes, weird eating entire boxes of crackers and other strange dietary habit style of life, and that I would wake you up when I decided it was bed time at 4 am because I have no sense of time or how most of the world lives their lives.”
So, I’m ranting because I’ve had a drink or two to loosen me up, and I’m angry with his narcissism. Grr. And that the cool person he once was – the friendly, funny optimist — seemed to vanish and an angry, distraught, pessimistic, self-serving bastard appeared and decided to march all over me like a English army from the Revolutionary War – leaving me completely bewildered and questioning my sense of self.
Deedle-deedle-dee
Whatttttttttttteeeeeeeeeevah.
If this girl was a boy she’d be a Green Mountain Boy (see me as a Green Mountain Boy in the picture below).
How not to be seen.
And I ain’t rollin’ over and wavin’ my white flag. I’m adventuring on.
threemonthsofme 