So, if the planets align, The Boy will be here Monday night for dinner. And, get this: he’s going to visit my classes on Tuesday.
I am seriously not kidding. We talked about it at the conference, somewhat off-handedly. I’m always happy to have former students/current teachers come to class; it gives the students some insight into the current classroom that, alas, I cannot give them as well as a break from just hearing me talk. So, it wasn’t strange that I offered him an open invitation if the opportunity arose.
Complete serendipity: I used the chapter we wrote together in class last week. I mentioned this to him and he was quite excited (it’s not every day something you write ends up as curriculum in a college class). So, that lead to a conversation about possibly visiting class sometime. And then I mentioned that I wouldn’t be teaching methods classes next semester – I actually have two literature classes! – so it was a shame he couldn’t have come this semester. His response: “I could probably take the day off to come.”
Well, I’m not going to stop you! Of course, the original conversation was him planning to drive down Tuesday morning and back that afternoon when classes were over. I didn’t say anything, just “um hmm-ed” and said to let me know if he got the day off. He texted late this past week to say he had the day; I told him I’d send my lesson plans so he’d know what we were talking about that day – and he was welcome to drive down Monday night rather than make the roundtrip drive in one day. (Look at me, being all casual!) He said that would work and that’s where it stands now.
I really shouldn’t get too excited; things have a way of not working out between us (see: nine years) so I’m not quite convinced he’ll make it until I actually see him walk through the front door. A girl must prepare regardless, however, so I did some housekeeping today. The Christmas tree was one goal; it’s festive and it smells nice (and offers some pleasant lighting). I finally managed to vacuum the house – dropping tree needles all over the carpet was a good inducement – and I did the usual loads of laundry so everything will be dry and put away by Monday. I’ve been putting the detritus of my life away in the living room; the kitchen comes tomorrow. Trust me, I realize he could care less but this is a good reason to do what I’ve needed to do for weeks.
I made a grocery list but didn’t make it to the store today so that’s tomorrow’s task. Since I invited him to dinner, I have to cook. Well, I suppose I don’t have to; we could go out somewhere – but where’s the fun in that? So, I found a recipe for bouef bourguignon in the slow cooker. There’s a (freaking) lot of prep work to do tomorrow but then I won’t have to worry about actually cooking on Monday; the food will be ready whenever (if) he gets here and the house will smell nice. Fix some noodles, pour the leftover wine, and offer some chocolate for dessert: done. I don’t want to be fussing in the kitchen, before or after he gets here, and I’ll have some leftovers for the week. As long as its edible, I’m good.
Try not to laugh but I also bought a few new bras today. Yes, the thought that someone might actually see one on me was most of the provocation but – and this is true – I’ve been wondering if my size has changed. Indeed, it has! I’ve lost about 4 inches in my torso, so I do actually need new undergarments, which was enough reason to buy four new ones and put my current ones in the to-donate box. (And for anyone wondering, yes, I did buy a black lacy one.)
I thought I might pick up a pair of jeans at the Aging Military Store while I was out. My current pair, which I bought about a month ago, is already baggy – precisely why I bought the $28 jeans instead of the $170 jeans I tried on somewhere else. My shape is obviously still changing, so I need to think “transition” until things even out. So, after trying on a few styles and sizes, I ended up ordering two pairs of 6 longs since they didn’t have them in stock. And now, please, go back and read that sentence: size 6. I have never, in my working memory, been a single digit size, and while I realize it has quite a lot to do with the style of jean, I’ll take it! So, that means, since this summer, I’ve gone from a size 14 to a size 8-10, with the outlier of a pair of 6 jeans. Woo!
I was talking to a (male) friend this evening and mentioned the weight loss; we saw each other at the conference so he knew I’d lost quite a bit. He actually told me I looked hot – again, not something I’ve heard frequently in my life. I don’t know about “hot” but I do think I look pretty good these days. The weight loss has been a big boost; the new clothes have helped immensely; but the newfound confidence is really the element that makes it all work.
I feel pretty good about myself right now, where I am, what I am. I did before the conference, and my encounter with The Boy only helped. Perhaps that’s how I was finally able to jump that hurdle (and him): I finally like myself. I like how I look; I like where I am professionally; I like how I feel about myself. It only took me 42 years to realize that, while my life has often been hard and difficult, it has also been interesting, and that makes me interesting.
So, let’s hope I get to be very interesting this coming week…