Thank God for Small Miracles....

This was a truly weird weekend. I spent Friday night defending my honor (and my fidelity to Berger.... but in a good way that made me actually realize that I'm with him, for better or for worse.... even if he does dump me tomorrow. I'm in this.) And then Saturday I spent watching white guys rap in Washington Square Park while reading novels about women in prison for work, and then I spent the night away in Bklyn with our favorite married couple, M&M, who took me in after I got apartment-exiled.

Then today I came home expecting a bunch of hungover people from my roomie's party (hence the apt exile) and instead I got my friend back. (It's a long story, but my roommate and I have not been communicating well now for awhile, and of course we were feeling the EXACT same way about each other! Terrific irony in this apartment, I say.)

I had a lot of work to do this weekend and I was so riled up that this afternoon when all the work was done that I finally sat down with a blankie and Jennifer Weiner's IN HER SHOES. I cried alot (blame it on the BC); and I can't imagine the waterworks when Grey's Anatomy comes on in a few minutes.

My cousin Jesse also had a baby shower today back in Wisconsin. I always looked up to Jesse; she was popular, pretty and had much better hair than I did all throughout high school. When I was 22, visiting her and her husband in England (they were there for his military service) she told me that she was always jealous of me because I was such an individual! Anyway, I made the call my mom reccomended to congratulate her. All my female relatives on my mom's side were there; I did the strained conversation with my cousin Katie, an archeologist who speaks Urdu as well as talked with Jesse, my mom and my second mom (Aunt Wendy). Jesse had a crazy Midwestern accent, and Katie said that "your mom has been telling us about all the lovely things you're doing in New York..." and so I thought about all the lovely things I HAVE done in NYC... especially my walks around the city that I've been starting to do on the weekends for hours at a time.

Our landlord apparently dropped off the renewal for our lease yesterday as well. So I thought about the past 525,600 minutes. I've changed SO much in the past year. I saw earlier today in my journal that I wrote in November that I changed so much I didn't know myself anymore. But that's not true. I do. I just needed to remember.

I had the perfect moment of revelation earlier and didn't realize it until the hormones from the BC, the reconciliation with my roomie and subsequent journaling, and the perfect chick lit novel kicked in. Yesterday while shopping at Maxx, the fitting room guy got me a size 4 skirt. And I pulled on (barely) size 4 jeans- and I felt like I had accomplished what I set out to do in January 2005.

But what's really cool about the "new" body is that today I walked the entire Central Park loop, starting at 59th and going uptown on the east side and downtown on the west. I got to the part where it flattens out at 80th St and started to run. I always run faster than the people that actually jog the whole way 'round but this time I could feel the muscles in my legs WANTING to sprint, wanting to test themselves. I let myself gain power for a second and then pulled it back, controlling my muscles.

And to a girl that never really had any athletic ability that felt GOOD.

I apologize for the ramble, but this is what you get with a girl on the second day of mad estrogen hormones to keep from getting knocked up.