Today, I am 41

For the past few days, I have been in my happy place--the northern Oregon Coast. The skies have been clear and blue each day, save the one we arrived. We pulled into town with the rain coming almost horizontally and I still couldn't stop smiling. I simply love it here--we both do. We dream of retiring here, and today we started talking about Ways to Make Moving Here Happen Sooner--which is fun, even if it remains hypothetical.

I have not been able to weigh myself for a week, which is another blessing. I am still figuring out when to say when portionwise, and I am getting better at it. We did hit Harry and David and discover their sugar-free goodies, and I discovered quite unexpectedly that I rather like hot tea. So far, the Stash Chai Spice Black Tea and Harry and David's Ginger Spice Tea are my favorites, with one packet of Stevia in a cup. Lovely.

My greatest pleasure on this trip has been being able to find T-shirts (and two hoodies). It has chapped me for about 20 years that I could never buy a shirt when I traveled somewhere or went to see music. (Fat people have money too! Merchandisers, take note.) An XL either fits or almost fits me now, which is a really big deal for a person who wore 5X/6X at her heaviest. I have gone a little crazy this trip making up for lost time in the T-shirt department.

I am at peace with being 41, despite my eye bags (which, to be fair, I have had since I was in grade school--damn the genetic lottery). I am glad to be breathing and mobile with senses and brain intact. I am trying to make peace with my body's lumpiness, which is definitely easier since the number on the scale is getting smaller by the day.

Today at lunch we had an attractive young waiter who was on the cusp of being young enough to be my son. I finished my portion of my entree and Mr. Salted helped with the rest, so I went up to pay while he was still eating. I gave this waiter my driver's license and VISA debit card. The debit card bears a photo that is about two years old, while the driver's license photo is only from a couple of weeks ago.

"Is this you?" he asked quizzically, brow furrowed.

My grin immediately became a mile wide. "Yes, I've lost almost sixty pounds since then," I replied happily. He was the first service person to note this particular discrepancy in my appearance--at least, out loud.

"Well, you look GOOD," he responded without a beat. Not 'you're looking well' or 'healthy' or whatever generic, tactful thing most people I know would say, but "GOOD" with the heft of, dare I say, actual appreciation behind it. This event was somewhat of an anomaly for me to experience at ANY age, dear reader, and to be 41 and have it come from a handsome stranger almost young enough to be my KID--I will take it as a compliment. Whether he was aiming for a better tip or not--it made this old bag's day!