the amazing adventures of jen14221

sunday kid photo

"Did I grow?"
 

weekend weigh-in

I only went to the fancy gym twice this week, but since my new hotel does not offer free breakfast (read: multiple strips of bacon on an English muffin with cream cheese) and free drinks and snacks every night, I think I'm doing pretty well.  It's slow going and my love for excellent red wine does not help my cause, but I think I look better than I did at 30.  Maybe even 25.

 
Now I just need to work on my stupid fucking emotions.  Wah.

this week > last week

This week is so much better than last week.  Time really does heal things.  Also Lexapro.

1. I got a suite at the Hyatt.  It's niiiiice.
2. I did Pilates for the first time and did not die.
3. I bought some cute new shoes.
4. I got new contact lenses.
5. I went to the Ritz and met Top Chef Jennifer.

early monday morning

I'm not flying to Philly until tomorrow morning but Petey the cat is standing guard anyway.  I think he hates saying goodbye to me and I find him here every Monday morning at 5:30, blocking my exit.

o canada

We packed up a few things and drove to Toronto.

I had Peter stop about halfway there I could get Will got a new pair of mittens.

 

Once we arrived at the hotel, Peter set about fixing us a wet bar.

And I filled it up with the good stuff.  Notice the Capri Sun drink pouches.  For the kids, you know.

Once our friends arrived, the guys took the kiddos to see the Barenaked Ladies concert over at City Hall. Live music?  Not my cup of tea.  Plus, I had no socks and it was cold.  So Sara and I went up to the Executive Lounge.

They serve Canadian sodas in Canada.

 
 
If you start drinking at 5pm, you should alternate.  Club soda, red wine, club soda, red wine, bottle of Veuve Clicquot.

I did not pay $150 for our bottle of Veuve.  Premier had Veuve on sale back at Christmas time for $38/bottle.  I stocked up, baby.

I had not-so-great Poutine for dinner, and then we all hit the pool.

The pool was super-cool.  It was heated.  Part of it was inside, and you could swim under a little barrier to go outside.  It was late and dark and at times I was alone, swimming outdoors, looking up at the buildings and lights of downtown Toronto.  The steam from the heated pool was wafting off the water into the freezing air and I floated and pondered. It was beautiful and sort of romantic.  Except, you know, I was there with my husband.  And our six year-old.

And then my trance-like buzzed-on-Veuve state was interrupted by MOMMY COME GET ME I WANT TO SWIM WITH YOU. MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM.
 
 

toronto bound, again

Well, Peter creamed himself at the Auto Show last weekend, and that Hilton is very nice, so we're going back today for another overnight stay. With Will this time, and some pals from Lockport are also tagging along with their kids.

I am anti-travel on the weekends b/c I do it all effing week long but I think it might be a good idea to get out of the house and stop stewing and moping and feeling like a big fat crybaby. 

I need to find some poutine.  There's a POUTINERIE right around the corner from the hotel.  Awesome.

friday kid photo

The best thing about being in this kind of funk?  NO APPETITE.  Seriously, I hit a new low on the scale this morning.  I was going to post a picture of myself, looking all hot and shit but the sight of my own frowny face in the mirror made me laugh a little.

NO LAUGHING ALLOWED!

So here's one from September of me and my beautiful boy.

And my crazy hairdo and my awesome sparkly bracelet.

going home today, please wind me up

Oh this week.  Throw this week in the sink and grind it up with the disposal.  It was terrible.  I am going through personal shit and I am little panicked about this project at work and I switched hotels this week (after three years) and I woke up several times every night in a state of WHERE THE HELL AM I OH MY GAH in the new hotel room.

I tried to be good.  I went to the gym several times and ate no bacon at all (I miss bacon, sob) and kept the red wines to a minimum, but I am still in a funk.

I hope I will feel better once I get back to the Buffy.  I even think my cleaning lady is coming today so maybe the house won't be a pit and all I'll have to worry about is laundry and groceries.

Now, no one reads the blog anymore (except my husband, who just started reading after almost six years of Jen14221.com, what the hell) but anyone who is reading, please don't think I'm a brat, bitching about my oh-so terrible life and how I am so fucking melancholy.

I know I probably sound like a big jerky, I have a great family and a good job and I am pretty smart and I've got things going for me, right?  But, depression is a BITCH and A HALF.  You forget about all the good stuff.  It truly is like those commercials you see on TV where the robot needs to get wound up to get through the day.  And I haven't felt like this in a really long time.  Like, there was this thing I went through in the fall of 1998, and I had a bit of a breakdown and I started sobbing in my office at work and my boss sent me home and instead of just going home, like to my apartment in Brighton, I went HOME.  TO WILLIAMSVILLE, NEW YORK.  I called someone to come take care of Petey the cat and I drove my ass 450 miles home.  That's how I feel this week.

Of course, back in 1998, after a week I pulled it together and I went back to Boston and to work and to Petey and it all was fine in the end.  But that week?  SUCKED.

I think I'm kind of too old to pull that kind of shit anymore, and I am not even sure that home is the place to be.  Too bad I don't still have that crappy apartment in Brighton!

do you know what kind of sucks?

This shit, that's what.

friday kid photo

Will's heart says 'Tweet Me'