If only we Lived to Two Hundred Years old......

Life is worth living if only for all the moments like this one added up. At the end of life if you can look back and remember more good times than bad, I guess what more can you ask for? Maybe I'm easy to please, but I'm happy if there's good food, pleasant atmosphere, music, and company makes it all better if it's good company. It's just Mike and I tonight. But that's fine as there aren't too many friends in our lives these days. So many live too far from here or have recently moved.....or turned out to be not such good friends after all. I'd love to have my little brother, or my Mom, or our friend Mikey over to eat with us. But they're all at least two hours away. We'll see them for the holidays. Hopefully little bro Sam will be up next weekend. I love to think I made him have a good time away from home. I like to make him food and see him and Mike enjoy each other so much.
Let me just say that shack has saved my life. If he didn't have it he'd just be sitting around the apartment moping. But he's so happy to have a place to do his art right outside his door. He's talked about it for so long, and it's finally become a reality. It doesn't feel so claustrophobic in here anymore. I can do my thing without feeling hovered over and he feels purposeful which seems to make all the difference for men. They need to be useful or they get depressed. Also he's back on his welbutrin which makes all the difference. He's like a different person.
Anyhow, my perfect night. I've got a big ol' hunk of ham baking in the oven and it smells divine and it fills every inch of my small apartment with maple and clove. It's mixing with the sweet scent of the pecan pie and roasted squash. I'm going to blend the squash up with a yam and make mashed potatoes, corn bread, brussel sprouts and creamed corn. I think I'll make corn bread too. I jumped on the StairMaster earlier and did some sit ups and stretches so I can stuff my face without guilty images of fat rolls from my belly ruining the whole sumptuous feast.
Although,I was looking at old photos of Mike and I today and I wanted to cry. I used to be so skinny. And then when I got on the M-done I got SO fat. The pictures are horrifying. I can't believe I didn't notice and do something to stop it. I was oblivious. I had such strong cravings for sweets. The chocolate eclairs and the key lime pie from a bakery down the road from me would call my name. What could I do, I could not ignore the sweet little goodnesses. I try to justify the whole hideous binge time by claiming I had been undernourished throughout the heroin years and needed to get my vitamin count back up. But that's a lie. All the doctors I ever encountered were always shocked by how healthy I was for an addict. Healthier than a lot of non-addicts. Probably due to my obsession with good food. And I worked at a farm so I was fit and tan and ate well. I just got blasted too. Aside from needle holes, I was always pretty good. Probably better off in some ways from now. I've lost a lot but still have about twenty pounds to go before I can fit into my old clothes. Aaaah, this is not what I wanted to think about.
I wanted to revel in indulgence and all the good, sweet, euphoric moments. The champagne, the salty, sweet smell of the ham. The candles and the music. And I'm so excited to be about to begin my drunken carving of my six, yes, that's six, pumpkins. I'm going to line them up on a staircase outside of my house. I'll try to take a good pic of them all lit up when I'm done. Wish me luck-pray I lose no appendages.

I can't decide if I like the Summer or Fall the best of all seasons. Or maybe winter, but only when there's snow. Or maybe spring, but only if it's not too, too rainy. So maybe Fall is the best after all, because summer can be too hot. But what can fall be too much of. I suppose sometimes it rains too much in the fall.

Going to carve my pumpkins and then roast the seeds. It's this kind of crap that makes me think about having kids after all only because they enjoy it so much. I'm always trying to get all my adult friends to carve pumpkins or decorate ginger bread houses and they just don't get the joy like I do. I think I need kids for that. Maybe someday. If only we lived to be two hundred, I wouldn't feel so rushed.