In my most private moments I try to take the time to mentally list all the things that I am thankful for. Some days it's a stretch, and sometimes I find my mind goes off in directions that surprise me.

Last night I was lying in the tub, looking up through the darkened skylight, wiggling my toes through the bubbles, and listening to something chill. I started off thinking "well, I'm thankful I've got this tub, and the time to soak and think."

I moved on to "I'm thankful for these sore muscles, and for logging six miles, and for doing my lunges, and sit-ups. I'm thankful for my health, and I'm proud of myself for getting back into an exercise routine. I may be an aging goofball, but I've got my health."

These are private moments, mind you. I don't write this stuff down. The time when I can get into my own head is precious, and in a world where privacy is vastly underrated, alone time can be stellar.

So I was thankful for the bath, and the bod, and I found my mind wandering to other events of the day, and I started to cry. My Mother's state (I truly don't know any other way to describe "it") is getting worse, and I can handle the cold criticism, and the phone calls that start off (after I've gone to bed) with "I know you hate me, and I'll be dead soon so you won't have me to kick around much longer...", but I suddenly found myself wishing she was better only for her own sake. The merciful part of me that I sometimes lose touch with, at least as far as she's concerned. As I tried to wipe away the tears with the back of my wet hands I was thankful I have a merficul heart.

I thought of the others I love in my life who are going through rough times, and I hoped they could find private moments where they could mentally tick off the things they are thankful for (even though the list might be short.) I am thankful I have a merciful heart.

I am also thankful for a beautiful morning, and my coffee, and for fun times with people I love, and the fact that it's Friday.

Have a nice weekend, y'all.

I can't begin to properly express how much I want to see this movie. I'm almost afraid to say it out loud, because I don't want to be disappointed if it isn't as good as I think it will be.

In other news, I was carded at Tom Thumb (making it worth every penny they overprice their merchandise.) My good man says, "Are you sure you're old enough to be buying this wine? I don't want you getting into trouble with the cops out in the parking lot." Me, looking down into my purse, hair falling and concealing my huge grin. Oh, please!

I also drank entirely too much Saturday night, and paid for it Sunday. I love being home, and I adore all of my fun, fun friends. (It was fun. Fun, fun, fun.)

Finally, I am back into my fitness routine, and find that if I don't get it in early, I'm cooked. Literally. It's been humbling to find how much air I suck after only 3.5 miles on the bike (the trainer dude said something about "ozone levels" that made me feel a little less sucky), but I'm doing three reps on the circuit, and I'm swimming laps every day. I want to be healthy. I'm loving life too much not to be.

p.s. "Six Feet Under". We all saw the hook-up coming, but - he's not dead, right??

p.p.s. I'm back to taking baths (almost) every night. Bought a big bottle of thyme lemon verbena bath milk on sale at Target (on the Booth's aisle) that's good stuff. Also good stuff? Aveno creamy moisturizing oil. Ditto the new Haagen-Dazs light coffee ice cream. Half the calories, and - I swear - tastes just like the real thing.

p.p.p.s. I need to lay off the caffeine.

dork

I know that my Dad would have a fit over the pants I just bought. Why? Because they have holes in them. On purpose.

I needed a pair of jeans that fit. I'm shrinking, and I'm going to have to pursue why this isn't a good thing with the fitness trainer Thursday afternoon. When last we met he informed me he could help me get my body fat percentage down.

He e-mailed me a six page fitness prescription that says I need to work out six days a week. I need strength (which I'm o.k. with), flexibility (why not?), and cardio (sure). I need this for over an hour a day, six days a week. I thought I was doing good by doing this (on average) 3.5 times a week.

He went on to tell me I need to consume 862 calories a day. Heh. (I weigh 120 pounds. I'm 5-foot-seven.) It's irresponsible to pass on this sort of info. I consider myself a fairly smart person, and for a few days I found myself sucking on Altoids for lunch.

I'm telling you, I attract crazy people.

I hate confrontation. All I wanted was to get set up on the machines. Now I've got to tell him that my doc, my nurse, and my friends all say he's a nut-job. (After he sets me up on the machines.)

Anyway ~

The older I get, the harder I find it to sit still. I need near-perpetual motion. I'm either pacing, or typing, or driving, or wiping, or folding, or watering, or cooking, or organizing - etc. There are a few things that will make me slow down long enough to sit still. Movies will do it. A favorite t.v. show will do it. A hot bath will do it.

I appreciate those times when I can sit back and breathe. Times where I don't get antsy, or beat myself up for being lazy. I love the normal, beautiful bits of life.

Now, sleep.

Things are starting to come together. On the horizon:

*getting a toll-tag. A must in these parts.
*getting my new drivers license. The picture could be none worse than the last one.
*going to book club Wednesday night. Old friends, wine, and hot, smart women chatting the night away.
*going to get a fitness assessment at the club tomorrow morning. He's a Cooper trained fitness dude who says stuff like "awesome!", and "fitness prescription". I'll be tested on the treadmill, benchpress, get a body-fat composition test (Sidenote: I've lost around five pounds during the move. Heat, stress, work, etc. I think part of what I've lost is also muscle, which debunks Lindsay Lohan's theory that the reason she's lookin' so skinny lately is all due to exercise. Not that I care - I'm just saying...), push-ups (which I never do), sit-ups, etc. Fun stuff!!!
*going to my beloved old gynecologist Monday. I know this sounds weird, but I love this man.
*lots of other things.

I'm getting acclimated to the heat, and I'm trying to get used to Dallas drivers again (damn, people - slow down!) (O.K. - pot/kettle - I know.)

In the meantime, I've got a new flavor of Blue Bell to try (chocolate-covered cherry!), and a bubble bath to take (later).

the broken record

I catch myself gasping for joy all the time lately. (Sidenote: Gasping is the only term I could come up with. It's really more like catching my breath. Or that feeling when you're being tickled, and you're about to say "stop, stop!") It's nothing hugely important that'll do it. A simple drive to Sonic to pick up a couple of burgers made me feel wildly happy. (Sidenote #2: There are four Sonic's within a five mile radius!) Skimming the pool in midafternoon heat. The live oak trees in the front yard. Listening to "old friends". Being back in the middle of family drama. Taking a warm bubble bath - with candles - and music! (Oh God - I'm gasping again.)

I've never considered myself one of those hard-to-please types. (I'm sure there are people who'd beg to differ.) My needs are pretty clear-cut, and simple. I'm happy doting on people I love. I'm happy putzing around my flowers. I'm happy complaining about the heat and the traffic. I'm happy eating a bowl of Blue Bell Homemade Vanilla Ice Cream. I'm happy sleeping in a good bed. I'm happy hearing the sprinklers come on at 4:30 a.m. I'm happy watching a thunderstorm blow in. I'm happy sitting by the pool at night, looking up at the stars, and hearing absolutely nothing.

I know there are troubles in the world. I know that there's war, and famine, and violence, and sickness, and horrible things happening, and I want to continue to be involved in ways to help make a difference, but I've got to be honest - I feel like I'm on cloud nine, and I'm going to savor that. I'm so thankful for the happiness I feel. I want to spread it around like cream cheese or strawberry jam, and I wish everyone could feel this way. Life is not perfect, and it never will be, but I feel like I'm in a place where I can handle the bitter and sweet a lot better than I ever could in the past.

p.s. Please don't make fun of me. I'm happy, but I'm also still sensitive.