I'm 31 years old. I'd like to think I get better every year ("I am chaaaaanging...") but there are certain things intrinsic in me that aren't going to go away. At least not overnight.
I need a lot of attention, and I'm not shy about asking for it. I'm willing to take the bull by the horns. If I need or want something, I go get it. However, I recently asked my parents for some more attention and it may have destroyed what was left of our relationship. As part of a tirade I can't quite describe, I had to hear about what I was like as a baby - and let me tell you, from their perspective, it was not good. But the interesting thing is, I was pretty much exactly like I am now. So that tells me that I can't really be blamed...
Given my need for attention, and wanting to get what I want, last night I made the very conscious choice to break detox. I had become obsessed with the #s - how much I weighed, how much I lost, how much I gained over Christmas, how much I needed to lose - so much so that I'd forgotten that the whole goal of detox was to make my pants fit. Meanwhile I was pulling my loose pants up, agonizing over what kind of virgin cocktail to order at Temple Bar. (Turns out seltzer, mint and lime is quite a good option.)
So I broke detox and drank, blame me for being weak but there's no sense detoxing if it makes you miserable. It should be all about feeling good. And let me tell you, drinking the last remains of the Delirium Noel keg @ Marshall Stack felt good (as did the asparagus/goat cheese/truffle oil pressed sandwich, which really isn't that bad for you).
I don't think my love for jukeboxes is going to change anytime soon, either. They have a good one at Stack, lots of classic rock and a bit of funk and soul, enough to encourage me to pump in a buck to hear "Strange Magic" by ELO and "These Eyes" by The Guess Who, both songs I own. It's funny, people complain about paying $1/song on iTunes, but people will still pay $1 to hear 2 songs only once and not even own them. I'm happy to pay for my song downloads. I like owning my music. Blame me for being old-fashioned. I was probably like that as a baby.
After a great night and something like six hours at the bar, I weighed myself this morning. I'm a pound less than I was on Christmas Eve, which is my new detox low. That felt good too. Say what you want about numbers, but I had a goal, and I got what I wanted.
So apparently Baby Sandi was logical and analytical and capricious - cuddling one moment, crying another. She loved her daddy. She wanted attention but not too much. And whatever she wanted, she had better get it. Things haven't changed that much. But don't blame the baby.