Semi-infrequent · Ramblings

I got the results of my bone scan back last Thursday, while I was standing in my sister's kitchen in Pittsburgh, helping her unpack and settle into the place she had just moved into. And, yeah, not what I was expecting.

I'd thought that since I'd started actually eating and gained all of the weight I was told to, my bone density levels would have continued to steadily improve without the aid of medication. I was wrong on that point. They didn't improve, nor did they remain steady. Nope, they plummeted all the way back to the baseline levels taken in 2002 when I barely weighed 90 pounds. I have severe osteoporosis and have a dangerously high fracture rate in my hips and my spine. That one hurt. MY SPINE? Um, WTF? Is there any other bone in your body that's worse to have a fracture rate for?

Le sigh. I cried about it for about four days, and then I kicked my ass into gear. I accepted that this is something I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life. While most women start taking Fosamax when they're 60 or so, I'll start the lifetime prescription at 29. I'll be very careful to make sure I eat a calcium and vitamin D rich diet for the rest of my life, and make sure I get at least 1500 mg of additional calcium supplements a day. I'll be very cognizant of my posture and make sure I never start to slouch over. I have to be careful to avoid falls and other such accidents. It sucks, but I did it to myself, so I can't bitch too much.

But, seriously, this is something that you NEVER think of when you're in the beginnings of an eating disorder. You think, "Oh, I'll be able to buy size 0s now," but never, " Oh, I'm going to develop osteoporosis in my mid-20s." Seriously, that shit needs to be better publicized. I look back at a series of decisions I made in 2001 and 2002, and I want to strangle myself. Yes, I was crazy skinny for a few years and could wear whatever the hell I wanted. That's really the only high point. Looking back now, only a few years later, was it worth it? Not even fucking close.

Eating disorders affect your life in ways you couldn't even imagine. The lingering effects can wrought more damage than the type you suffer through at the time. I should start doing speaking engagements on this. I'm my very own friggin' cautionary tale.

Meh.

So I wake up to head out to the gym this morning, and I can't find my keys. They're not hanging on the key hook I hammered into the wall so I'd never misplace them. They're not sitting on the kitchen counter or on the dining room table. They're not in my purse or my work bag. I'm just about to drop down to my hands and knees and crawl under my table to see if maybe they fell to the floor, when I get that sickening thought in my stomach, remembering how I was struggling coming home last night, trying to manage a suitcase, my purse, a computer backpack, three bags of groceries and four days of mail.

No, I think to myself. I couldn't have.

Oh, but I did. I left my friggin' house keys hanging outside in the lock all friggin' night long. Real safe. I live right in the heart of South Beach. I mean, it's not Compton or anything, but it's also not middle of nowhere, Iowa. I nearly died when I saw what I had done. I keep my computer not even five short steps from my front door. And it's not like I back up any of my writing or anything, either. God, that could have bad. My personal safety aside, I could have lost everything I've written in the past few months.

*shudders*

I've been justifiably neurotic about my front door since I got home today. Seriously, I've checked that shit like six times. Still locked. Keys still hanging on the key hook. WHERE THEY WILL STAY FROM NOW ON.

Now, as far as concerts go, I'm not too hard to please. Just sit me down in front of someone playing live, and, assuming he or she is mildly competent, I'm a happy camper. But Billy Joel last night? Totally sucked. He opened with "Piano Man," which was awesome, but then spent the next 90 minutes playing all the b-sides off of all the records he released in the 70s, none of which anyone in the audience had ever heard before. I've never been at a concert (at a frickin' arena, no less) where there was a constant stream of people leaving and those who stayed behind just sat their in their seats, not moving. I even heard some booing. And don 't get me started on the non-existent set design. I've seen better at high school drama club productions. Things got better for the last half-hour, at least, when he actually stared playing songs the audience knew. But even a last ditch "We Didn't Start the Fire" was going to make up for the 18 previous songs. Sorely, sorely disappointing.

Last night kicked off the concert tour, so all I can hope is that he learns from last night and does some serious reshuffling of the lineup. If not, if any of you out there have tickets, I'd change them in for something else. Bad form, Mr. Joel.

I have become obsessed with wine. This wine to be exact. Seriously, if you like wine, you have to try it. A-friggin-mazing. It's not super pricey; the most I've seen it for retail is about $25. But wow is it good. I think I'd become their spokesmodel if I could. Especially if I could wear a sparkly dress, poof my hair up and pretend I was on Star Search circa 1987. That would rock.

In other news, I'm going to see Billy Joel tonight! Woot!

Dude, I seriously would make a kick-ass secret keeper. My best friend just called and told me that she got engaged, and I finally got to shout at her, "Bitch, I've known for months!!" (after saying, "Oh my God, I love you, congratulations," of course). Dear lord, the agony it's been to not be able to say anything. It was really hard the other night when she started saying she had a hunch he was going to propose. I started digging my nails deep into my boyfriend's knee to keep from saying anything and then later slightly freaked out that he would misinterpret that as my own little 'so when are you going to propose?' hint, which ... no. Totally was not. Had to set that one straight. But anyhow, James and Lily would totally still be alive if I had been their secret keeper.

And just for fun ... ( The 2005 meme )

I have crossed over and become a Mac user. And, my lord, why didn't I do this sooner? I got home, took the iBook out of the box, plugged it in, turned it on ... and everything WORKED. It instantly recognized my internet signal. I plugged in my camera, and all of pictures instantly uploaded and sorted themselves. A-friggin-mazing. I love it.

The only thing I can't figure out is how to get my old iTunes to load onto my new computer, but just a minor setback. It's a project to sic the boyfriend on.

Dude, Apple rocks. Windows sucks.

I totally saw Shakira today wandering around South Pointe. She rocks my world. No Orlando Bloom sightings as of yet, unfortunately, but the night's still young. Off to have a few more cocktails ...

Okay ... so Katrina was a bit more powerful than anticipated. Still, she didn't do that much damage to my place. We have a few trees down, but that's about it. I didn't even lose power, making me the only person amongst my family and close friends to have not only power but also cable and internet access. Yeah, I've been pretty popular today. In all, it was nice to have the day off of work, but it would have been better had the office been open, considering I have a summary judgment response due Monday. Now I'll have to work all weekend. Grr ...

It was ten years ago, and I was a senior in high school. I was sitting in the family room when the phone started ringing. My mom answered it, and a few moments later, she called out, "Tabitha, Sarah's on the phone." I still remember that she called me by my full name, and I remember thinking it was weird because my entire family always called me "Tab." I walked into the kitchen where she was holding the phone out for me and climbed onto the kitchen counter, sitting cross-legged.

"Hey, Sarah."

There was a pause. "Janine."

"What?" I asked.

"You know about Janine." She didn't pose it as a question.

My first impulse on hearing the name was to mutter, "bitch." Janine was another girl in my class and while we were generally friends, we were in the midst of some petty little fight that teenage girls love to have. I don't even remember what it was about. For some reason, though, I held back on the inner dialogue. "Know what?" I asked instead.

There was another pause. "She died today."

This time I was the one to take a pause, Sarah's words registering in my brain. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"Tab?" Sarah's voice said softly.

"I ... um ... I ..." I couldn't find the words, any words. I told Sarah I'd call her back and hung up. Later on I'd learn that Janine was killed in a car accident driving home after picking up her prom dress. It was only 3 days before the senior prom and only 10 days before graduation. She had been on the Sawgrass Expressway behind a truck, and a ladder had fallen off the truck and into the middle of the road. She'd swerved to try and miss it and completely lost control of her car. I'd like to say that she'd died instantly, but that wasn't the case. She died at the scene but not before coughing up blood while cradled in her 14-year-old brother's arms. He was a freshman at the time. This is one of those facts I wish I'd never learned because it still haunts me to this day. The whole thing does, actually. Four years I spent in high school. That's four years worth of memories, yet for some reason whenever I think of high school, this is the first memory I conjure.

I just got home about 15 minutes ago and stopped by the mailbox on my way upstairs. Sitting there in the mailbox was a letter from my high school, a notice for my ten-year high school reunion. You know, until that letter, it hadn't dawned on me that it's been 10 years since I graduated. Ten years, full of college memories, law school memories, injuries, illnesses, love, heartache and laughter. And the first thought that came to mind was of Janine. As if no time had passed at all. Weird how the mind works.

1. Go here.
2. Pass it on.
( my answers )