Monday, March 29, 2010
Saturday I went to a fundraiser…food, wine, cheese, entertainment, the whole bit. Mostly, I was there for the Cher impersonator.
But there were 2 billion other acts to sit through first…
The high school choir walked on stage as if they were approaching a guillotine. They looked like they were hostages forced to sing for their lives. They screeched through TWO [yes, 2] songs from the musical, Wicked.
[note to self: TOM makes me a less tolerant human being for sure]
I covertly whisper to my friend in a volume only a dog could hear: “How is it possible they are this horrible?”
[I swear the hostages really could not hear me. I was sitting way in the back.]
My friend with 2 young daughters explains: “Honey, when you have kids you will learn there are different levels of torture, and really my kids’ violin recitals are much worse.”
[note to self: Steer all offspring into non-musical hobbies.]
It seemed like ions passed before Cher appeared in all his/her fabulous glory, wearing a floor-length lavender fur coat, bejeweled with sparkling things and knee-high platform boots. Makeup = fabulous. Attitude = diva. Cher was putting on show. Go Cher. You rock!
Suddenly, Cher whips off the lavender fur, revealing a skintight purple bejeweled leotard. Like a magician s/he made his/her man parts disappear. The whole man part situation was simply fascinating. Cher still rocked the house though. And it was a blast.
Ninety days ago I didn’t even think I was capable of any kind of social life
Let alone hilariously fun nights filled with man parts and lip-syncing and the vocally-challenged
Ninety days ago I was sitting on my bed with fast and junk food on my nightstand
Attempting to drown my pain and convince myself that settling was enough
And then I found the spark and the realization that I could restart my life
And the fact that I had the power to change my life all along
For me this journey has always been about finding a full life, not just losing weight
Some days are easier than others
But I always know that I have the choice to let go of the old baggage or let it bury me.
I can always choose.
And I am choosing to be free.
I am choosing to be happy.
I am choosing to live.