Bread and Circuses: An Introduction

This isn't about quilting: it's about a lifelong effort to feel good in my skin.  I actually started this several years back for the entertainment of myself and some folks on a food diary I used to be on. Somehow, though, these characters have been cropping up in my thoughts again recently, so I thought I'd resuscitate them for the latest push at health and other elusive quests. These first few installments are from Before, but new installments are in the works...

Accountability is not my strong suit, I'll just put that right out there. It's very likely that this blog, like other attempts I've made to hem myself in to the "right" behavior, will be short-lived. I've started out with the hopefully deal-withable intention that it will only be for awhile, though, and I'm going to make it as entertaining for myself as possible, because that might appeal to my incredibly short attention span. And I do want to stick it out this time. Why? Because I think I'm going crazy.

I'll tell you a secret:
I hear voices.



You know that old 'devil/angel on your shoulder' idea? How about a nagging feeling? Maybe you have an inner child? I've got them all. I’m like a one woman town-hall meeting -  QUITE the opinionated crowd, too, and every ONE of them has an addiction to Coca-Cola. And they are SO LOUD, sweet creeping jebus – I can barely hear myself think. Bickering, wailing, jabbering, arguing, singing: it's like a goddamn circus in here.

Who are these people? Well first, something about me - about 5 years ago, I woke up to discover I weighed over 200 lbs. What? Madness! But even if weight itself is not the issue, I'm not comfortable in my skin - or my jeans - and that's a problem.  I've never been what you'd call willowy, but this is just ridiculous. It's absurd! It's criminal! Casting around helplessly for a perpetrator, I tune in to the Circus to hear what they have to say about it. And everyone's got an answer, but none of them sounds quite right. Some of them are even contradictory. Hm. Oh, I get it: this is like a police procedural, right? And all the witnesses have slightly different versions of the same story, and I have to figure out who's lying and who's telling the truth? Okay, I’m game. That could be entertaining.  And if I solve the Case of the Circus Criminal, then hopefully my next job will be the Case of the Missing Astrid - 35-40 lbs of missing Astrid, to be precise.

So who among these characters might have gotten me to this woeful state? Let's see: a cast list might help. Meet the Circus:

Zoe: Usually loudest, Zoe is a spoiled, contrary, antagonistic, snarky smartass, age 15, who’d basically prefer to be reading and thinks everyone is a moron. Zoe doesn’t care, and wants you to know it – she’s happy to rain on any parade. Like most teen girls, her sole weakness is the opinion of a particular very cute boy...whichever cute boy it happens to be that day.

Eppy: a 6-year old tomboy who just wants to play, and wants everyone else to play with her. She can be insightful in a painful, mouth-of-babes kind of way, but mostly she is confused as to why everyone is standing around.

The Machine: Turn it on, watch it go – it’ll keep doing that, whatever “that” may be, for hours and hours and HOURS. Eating, exercising, watching TV, anything. The Machine has no soul and no preferences: it’s just following the last known directive until new orders arrive.

Xena: Anything you can do, she can do better. Xena is hearty, competitive, violent, hugely strong, and has a protective streak, especially towards Eppy. She may be the only one who can give as good as she gets when it comes to Zoe’s snarkasm: however, she’s not particularly bright, and likes to solve problems by beating them to a pulp.  Xena's not really clear on her age, but she's pretty sure she's in her late 20s.  The others would disagree, if they were brave enough.

Constance: my biggest fan, a matronly, portly 50-something who can not only find a silver lining, but can manufacture one out of thin air in order to rationalize anything I’ve done. To Constance, I’m the bees’ knees, and nothing I do could possibly be wrong. She likes crafting and quiet Sundays at home, and has a bit of romance in her soul. She is also, inexplicably, Southern.

Cindee: YOLO, babe! Cindee’s motto is SCREW IT! Life is short! She uses a lot of exclamation marks!! She is particularly fond of beer, hanging out, karaoke, and generally doing anything other than what she should be doing. She craves adventure and stimulation, and can be the life of the party, but can get on self-destructive benders. Cindee's also a sexual predator, and that's led her to some very odd places. Her specialty is manipulation, but she can usually tell when she's beat.

The Professor: Has some grand ideas, and gets stuck in the theoretical. She can be abstract to the point of distraction, but has some useful big picture ideas sometime, and will likely be a big help in determining causal relationships between the Crime and the facts. The Professor likes numbers and facts, logging meals and looking for trends, linear results and straight lines. She’s not great with the details of every day life, however, and her curiosity sometimes takes her on some unhelpful tangents.

Narcissus: a fragile, hothouse beauty, Narcissus is easily hurt and willingly martyred. She can be temperamental, proud, and sneaky, but will usually be soothed with praise or presents…like pizza. She doesn’t purposely sabotage anything, but sometimes her best intentions go horribly, horribly wrong, after which she can be counted on to point fingers and sulk about moodily until someone tells her it’s okay.

Jane: manages the Circus as best it can be managed. Jane gets things done. She’s alert, pragmatic, strategic, reasonable; can be an adept negotiator and diplomat, though she's not especially gracious. And unfortunately, she also disappears with little warning from time to time, leaving the lunatics in charge of the asylum. Where does she go? Does she have another job? Does she just need time off?

And where does that leave me? I guess I’m the Detective, and my first job is to get to know these crazies and sift through all their stories looking for clues. SOMEBODY’S been packing on these pounds, and when I figure it out...

“...then we start busting skulls!” Xena enthuses, cracking her knuckles for emphasis.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, honey. You’re so goshdarn clever when you put your mind to it!” Constance beams at me.

Zoe rolls her eyes without even looking up from her magazine.