Glamour Shots

Posted on September 28, 2012 by Maria Langer

Reinvention needs documentation.

This past summer, I reinvented myself. It took some time — about three months — and the process is just about complete now. I went from being an overweight, middle-aged woman in a failing marriage to a slim, trim, sexy future divorcee, able to fit into clothes I wore in my 30s — and feeling like I’m in my 30s again. You can read about various aspects of my transformation in the blog posts tagged divorce.

The weight loss happened mostly while I was away in Washington. My friends there saw it happen gradually, so it wasn’t really noticed or commented on. My family had last seen me when I was at my heaviest and were anxious to get a look at me. Unfortunately, they’re all on the east coast — not within casual visiting distance. When I arrived home and began going through my wardrobe to find clothes that would fit the new, thin me, I took a few pictures and blogged them. But the pictures weren’t very good. I needed something professionally done.

Enter Glamour Shots. This company franchises professional photo services that go beyond just making photos. They work with you to make you look your best, then capture dozens of images for you to choose from.

My appointment was on Tuesday at Arizona Mills. I’d been instructed to bring three outfits — of course, I brought more just in case — and come without makeup.

Casual Shot

Cocktail Dress

I started with a makeup artist/hair stylist. I explained to her that I preferred a natural look that accentuated my features — especially my eyes — without making me look “made up.” Colorful eye shadows, for example, weren’t my style. She listened to me and made me up the way I would — if I was a little better at applying makeup.

Then she did my hair. I showed her photos of how I usually wore it and without too much trouble, she was able to duplicate the look.

By then, the photographer was ready and I was sent into the changing room to put on my first outfit. My only complaint about the Arizona Mills location was the fact that the changing room was also the restroom. Although there were hooks on the wall, there wasn’t enough space to spread out accessories like jewelry. And it just wasn’t the kind of atmosphere that I found comfortable for changing my clothes.

My first outfit was casual — my black “skinny jeans,” a blue shirt, and some Native American jewelry with blue accents. Blue works well for me — it brings out the color of my eyes.

I gave the photographer one simple instruction: make me look happy.

There were two photo studios, each set up with different floor and wall colors, as well as props like chairs and stools. The photographer instructed me on where to stand and how to pose. “Big smile,” he’d say. Then click and two flashes went off. He’d examine the image in the back of the camera, redo the shot if necessary, and then move on to the next pose.

Although I was only supposed to have three outfits, I actually had three and a half — a top change for the casual outfit. They kindly allowed me to do these extra shots, mostly because my makeup and hair had been so quick to do. Then we moved on to a skirt and top outfit, and finally, my colorful little “cocktail” dress.

For each outfit, I was shot on different backgrounds, with different poses, and at different distances. This built up quite a collection of shots, from closeups to full-body shots. The photographer sometimes tilted the camera for a more interesting image. Sometimes, he’d shoot the same pose from different angles for different framing and composition.

When it was all over — about 90 minutes after we’d started — I changed back into street clothes and organized my wardrobe. I had 45 minutes to wait for them to assemble the images. I had a quick lunch, then brought all my clothes back out to my car. When I got back in, they were pretty much ready for me.

They first showed me the images in a slide show. While I know that some people go for that kind of thing, it didn’t do much for me. The only benefit was that it kept us moving through all 80 or so images without stopping. Some of the images had been modified to remove color (or partially remove color) or convert to sepia. Again, while some people like that, I’m not too keen on it. After all, I can always fiddle around with the images in Photoshop to get a similar affect.

Once the slide show was over, we went through the images one by one. I pretty much rejected all the modified images and concentrated on the regular color shots. We weeded out a bunch, leaving me with about 36 that I liked. They asked me how many print packages I wanted and I think they were a bit surprised that I didn’t want any. All I wanted were high-resolution digital images that I could use however I liked — for profile photos, author photos, and probably dating. And, of course, I could always print up my own framed images for my mom or anyone else who wanted one.

I wound up buying 23 images that they’d touch up for me and another 13 that would not be touched up. It was expensive — I don’t want to say how much — but I think of it as a special treat to celebrate the new me. And having photos of me looking good will help encourage me to keep looking good.

I’ll get my disc from Glamour Shots in two to three weeks. The images you see here were forwarded to me at my request so I could include them in this blog post.

Many thanks to the staff at the Arizona Mills Glamour Shots for helping me look my best in pictures.

How to Tell if the Person You’re Dating is After Your Money

Posted on September 27, 2012 by Maria Langer

A objective list of things to consider to reveal the truth.

A very, very good friend of mine — someone I’ve known for a very long time — has begun dating a woman who may have ulterior motives in the relationship. My friend is apparently quite smitten with this woman and I suspect it’s because they met at a time in his life when he was feeling particularly vulnerable to an agreeable woman’s “charms.”

Sadly, my friendship with this person is on the rocks — indeed, he’s tuned me out completely and won’t listen to anything I have to say. And although many of his other friends have similar suspicions about this new woman in his life, they just want to “keep out of it” because it’s “none of their business.” I think they should be ashamed of themselves. I think friends who really care do need to get involved, at least to offer objective advice.

I’m doing my part. Here’s list of bullet points to consider when there’s a possibility that the person you have begun dating might be after your money:

How did you meet? Dating sites are excellent tools for people trolling for good financial partners. Many sites encourage you to provide financial information such as annual income. This makes it easy for someone looking to improve their finances to find someone in a better financial situation then they’re in.
How quickly did conversation turn to your material possessions? Did you mention your multiple homes, flashy European car, or airplane? (These are just examples, of course.) If someone is interested in your money, they’ll be impressed by what you own and more anxious to “seal the deal.”
What techniques did this person use to get and keep your interest? This can be conversation based — for example, agreeing with everything you say or siding with you against a common enemy. Or it might be more emotionally based, such as sharing risqué photographs or personal details to gain your trust. A rather well-off friend of mine who tried dating sites told me that a few of the more desperate women sent him “boudoir photos” very early on in their email conversations.
How quickly did the other party satisfy your basic emotional needs? I’m talking about button-pushing here — “sealing the deal.” Women can easily seal the deal with good sex, the sooner the better. Men can seal the deal with things like flowers, romance, hand-holding, cuddling, and/or excellent foreplay before sex. Someone looking for a meal ticket will want to build a strong emotional bond quickly, while you’re still wowed by all the attention you’re getting and don’t have time to think clearly about what’s really going on.
How big is the financial inequity between you? There are five main things to consider here:
- Employment status. Is this new person gainfully employed? Has he/she been working steadily for a while or bouncing from one job to another? While being “freelance” or “self-employed” might sound good, if there’s no work and no revenue, it really doesn’t count as being gainfully employed.
- Income. Is this person earning enough income to cover living expenses with enough left over to live comfortably? Is his/her standard of living and lifestyle similar to yours?
- Outstanding debt. Does this person have a lot of outstanding debt such as student loans, credit card balances, and personal loans? If this person owns a home, is it under water? If so, by how much?
- Net worth. Is this person’s net worth — that’s total assets minus total debt — negative? Someone who is in debt up to his/her eyeballs will be highly motivated to find a partner who can help prevent him/her from drowning in it.
- Retirement savings. Does this person have his/her own retirement savings including pensions, IRAs, and retirement investments? Someone without a retirement plan could be looking for someone else to provide it.
Has the other party asked for assistance? Has this person appealed to you to help with his/her finances? Perhaps borrow a small (or larger) amount of money? Ask your advice about refinancing or selling a home? Enlist your help getting a job?
Has the other party indicated that he/she wants to get married? Marriage — as I’ve so recently discovered — is more than just a vow of love until “death do you part” (which can apparently be broken). It’s a legal and binding contract with all kinds of ramifications on finances. If the other party is in a hurry to get married, it might be because he/she is in a hurry to grab your purse strings. Remember that a good prenuptial agreement can save you far more than it costs to draw up. And if your new partner refuses to sign it, that’s a pretty good indication of what his/her intentions really are.

In my friend’s case, an objective look at these points raised a lot of red flags. It seems that there’s a huge financial inequity between him and the woman he’s dating. In addition, the woman was extremely quick to seal the deal (yes, with sex) and gain his trust. That, coupled with what I know about the woman’s personality and my friend’s extraordinary behavior changes after they met, has me convinced that she’s primarily motivated by the financial benefits of a relationship with him. But because she meets his emotional needs — constant agreeability, ego stroking, companionship, and sex — he’s become blind to what’s so obvious to the rest of us — including the friends who simply won’t speak up.

What makes this all the more lamentable is that my friend, at age 56, is at a point in his life where he’s achieved an enviable amount of financial security. No, he’s not rich, but he’s financially stable with a positive net worth and very little real debt. To take on the financial responsibilities of a person he barely knows just because she’s pushed the right buttons when he needed them pushed is breathtakingly tragic.

Now I don’t know if my friend will read this. He very seldom reads my blog. I’m sure that if he does, he’ll recognize himself and his situation. He’d be blind not to.

But will he take what I’ve written here in the spirit in which it was intended: as a wakeup call to objectively look at the situation and possibly slow down? Or will what I’ve written here for him further damage our long friendship? Sadly, his irrational behavior lately leads me to believe that it’ll do the latter, possibly destroying our friendship forever. I believe that at this point, he’s too far gone down a foolish path.

As good good friend, however — a really good friend who truly cares about his emotional well-being — I’m willing to take the risk. To do otherwise would be to betray our long friendship.

I hope he reads this and understands.

Congratulations! You’ve made it to the end of yet another lengthy blog post here on An Eclectic Mind. If you got this far, you must have gotten something out of what you read. And isn’t it nice to read Web content that isn’t full of annoying ads?

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On Broken Marriages, Self-Esteem, Divorce, and Victoria’s Secret

Posted on September 26, 2012 by Maria Langer

My year in review.

Over the last few months, I’ve had a lot of time to think about the past 29 years of my life with the man who became my husband six years ago. The same man who rather suddenly told me he wanted a divorce in June, when I was 1200 miles away at my summer job.

I’ve blogged about our life together as things happened in bits and pieces throughout the 9-year history of this blog. I’ve also written blog posts that look back on certain aspects of our relationship and marriage; you can easily find them by clicking the divorce tag. Writing about this has been cathartic for me, helping me to organize my thoughts and get them out of my head in a way that makes so much sense.

It’s unfortunate that I need to write about this so much. I’d much rather write about other more interesting things like flying and travel and cooking. Sadly, this has taken a front row seat in my life, so it’s up front in my blog, too. I know that more than a few people have found what I’ve written helpful to them as they deal with their own divorce and recovery.

Today I want to focus on the damage I suffered to my personal self-esteem as my marriage started to deteriorate and how I’ve lately been able to overcome that and emerge a better, healthier, and stronger woman.

The Decline of a Marriage

Looking back in the 20-20 vision of hindsight, I think the problem started when I returned from my summer job in October 2011.

The month before, in September when my cherry contracts were finally over, my husband had flown out to Washington to spend about a week with me on a little vacation. We loaded up the truck and headed out on a trip around the Olympic Peninsula that included a day trip to Victoria, BC in Canada. We had a great time together — at least it seemed that way to me — and got to tour some of Washington’s most beautiful coastal and mountain areas with unbelievably good weather. I blogged about the first three days of the trip here, here, and here. As we finished that trip, I thought things were pretty darn good with our marriage. It was great to do a trip together — we’d had so few vacations in the previous few years due to his limited vacation time — and I looked forward to coming home and spending more time with him.

He’d been living 4 days a week in his Phoenix condo, which was much closer to work than our Wickenburg house. He’d been doing this for years — since he bought the condo — and had a roommate there to help keep his expenses down. I knew the roommate pretty well — he and his wife had been friends for years. His wife lived in their Williams area home and worked in Flagstaff. I liked her a lot; I thought (at least then) that she was a genuinely good person. But the roommate, who worked for the same company as my husband, was sometimes hostile toward me. As a result, I felt uncomfortable spending time at the condo with my husband when the roommate was around. So I pretty much stayed in Wickenburg during the week with occasional trips to Phoenix on weekends when it was less likely for the roommate to be around.

But in the late summer of 2011, my husband had asked the roommate to find another place to live. With the roommate gone, I’d move my office to the condo and spend more time with my husband. I could work in the condo while he went to his job in north Phoenix. We’d be together, without a third party hanging around.

So the roommate moved out and I moved my office into his bedroom. We also got a new king-sized bed and set up a small bed for guest in my office. I bought new blinds and fixed the place up a bit. Like my husband, I shifted many of my personal possessions to this new (for me) home and began living there during the week.

Because I’d been away all summer, I didn’t immediately pick up on the vibes coming out of my husband. But looking back on it now, I realize that he was distracted and distant almost from the very beginning of my time living in the condo. When I finally caught on, I assumed it had to do with his job. The company wasn’t doing well in the economy and although my husband usually didn’t have much trouble selling product, customer purse strings were tightening and my husband’s boss wasn’t being flexible enough on pricing. They were losing sales — he was losing sales. This not only affected his commission income, but it was making his boss unreasonable.

As the months ticked by, the stories my husband brought home from work became more and more disturbing. He was in a frustrating work environment, sharing a tiny office with a loud co-worker. His boss wanted to see him at his desk but also wanted him out in the field talking to customers. His boss was attempting to micro-manage everyone, throwing my husband — an experienced sales guy — off his game with idiotic instructions and demands. People were quitting or getting fired. My husband was stressed out and was bringing this stress home with him.

There was nothing I could do to help him. Instead, I watched him become more and more distant from me. Our time spent together was limited to going out to dinner, going to a movie, or watching TV. We seldom had sex; he seemed more interested in watching TV than coming to bed with me. When we went home to Wickenburg on weekends, he seemed more interested in doing chores around the house or catching up on DVRed episodes of his favorite car show than spending time with me. I couldn’t work in Wickenburg, so when I had work to do, I began staying in Phoenix over the weekend to work.

All through this time, he never told me what was bothering him. We never communicated about what was important in our lives together. When he didn’t like something I did or said, he’d fix me with a disapproving glance, letting me feel the unspoken anger that lurked within him. Spending time with him was becoming difficult, if not downright painful.

A Self-Esteem Death Spiral

Again, I didn’t realize it as it was happening, but when my husband and I started drifting apart, I began taking less of an interest in myself and my appearance. I’d always preferred loose-fitting clothes, which were more comfortable than more fashionable and feminine clothes I could have been wearing. But there seemed no reason to dress up or put on makeup — my husband obviously didn’t care so why should I?

At the same time, all our eating out and my lunch breaks spent walking Charlie the Dog to the nearby shops and restaurants started going to my waist. I started to gain weight. The loose-fitting clothes hid it, making me just another shapeless middle-aged woman.

I began noticing a certain lack of attention or even respect from sales clerks — especially younger ones — when I went shopping. I’d sometimes be ignored as I waited for service. More attractive people got more attention, smiles, polite responses. I began feeling like a second-class citizen.

Worse yet, my short hair and lack of makeup sometimes caused me to be mistaken for a man. The first few times this happened in front of my husband, he corrected the waiter or sales clerk or whoever very sharply. Once or twice, we even walked out of a restaurant. But after a while and too many times of this happening, he stopped correcting them. It must have made him feel like crap to be with a woman that some people thought was a man.

It made me feel like crap, too. But rather than do something about it, I just made it worse. I kept eating. I continued to gain weight. Few of my normal clothes fit me. I had nothing feminine in my closet to wear. When I looked in the mirror, I saw the overweight, middle-aged, possibly lesbian woman that everyone else was seeing. I hated what I saw. But I didn’t do a damn thing about it. As our relationship continued to decline, my self-esteem declined with it. Even when I stood on the scale one day and read 198 pounds, and my doctor prescribed three blood pressure medications, I continued on what would likely have been a self-destructive course.

I think that if my husband and I had talked about our situation and come up with some sort of plan to make it better, my problem might have begun to resolve itself sooner. At least we would have had a chance of saving the marriage along with my self-esteem. But because we never had the talk the marriage counsellor we saw said we needed, the marriage was never saved. Lack of communication is what ultimately killed our marriage; what came after I left for this summer’s work were just nails in the coffin.

The Diet and Divorce

In May 2012, once I’d relocated back to Washington for the summer and could bury myself in the flying work I enjoyed, I started feeling a little better. Other things that helped were:

Being among friends. After four summers in Washington, I had far more friends there than I had in Wickenburg or Phoenix. In Washington, I had a social life that included dinner out with friends, wine tasting, and socializing.
Being away from my husband’s dismal moods. It was a relief to be able to do what I wanted without having to worry about seeing his disapproving glare.
Being in a simpler living situation. Living in an RV isn’t ideal, but with just one person calling all the shots, it isn’t bad.

Meanwhile my husband got a new and better job that would allow him to work from home and travel. We were both excited about this. I think that if he’d gotten the job about three months earlier, I wouldn’t be using a divorce tag on my posts. I think the job could have saved our marriage. But the job came just after I left for the season. And although we talked on the phone about him coming to Washington with the dog and spending the summer with me and even traveling together, none of that ever happened.

I started the diet in mid June. My friend Mike and his wife Cheryl had lost 80 and 70 pounds respectively. My friend Jim, another pilot, jumped on board about a week before I did. It was Medifast and I already blogged about it and its results.

My husband began the divorce discussion on June 30, my birthday. I was shocked and wanted to meet with him in person to discuss it further. We met on July 12 in Cle Elum. By that time, I’d lost about 10 pounds.

Our meeting was charged with emotion. It was very civil. I did a lot of crying. I flew him out to Malaga in the helicopter to show him a wonderful piece of land where I thought we could reboot our lives together. He was not interested. The decision was made. He cried with me a little at lunch before we parted. And he also lied to me, assuring me that there was no other woman.

The emotional roller coaster I was on this summer isn’t worth recounting here. Reading my divorce-tagged posts should give you an idea of what I was experiencing and feeling. Until I found out about the other woman in August, I thought we still had a chance together — so did so many of our friends and family members — especially the ones he kept assuring that he still loved me. It was part of what motivated me to stay on the diet and keep losing weight.

Once I found out about the lies, I became doubly motivated. And as the fat fell off my body, my self-esteem began to come back.

Yes, it’s true — my husband wants to sleep with someone else. Someone who just happened to come along and tempt him when he was weak and needed someone. That should make me feel like crap. But it doesn’t. It makes me feel sorry for him and his weakness. It makes me realize that a strong woman shouldn’t be married to a weak man. It makes me realize that I can do so much better — and I should.

When I came home early and unexpectedly on September 15 and jumped the few hurdles he’d set to keep me out of my home and hangar, I was a full 40 pounds lighter than when I’d left for Washington on May 1. As I blogged earlier this week, I went “shopping” in my own closet and managed to fit into clothes I haven’t worn since I was in my 30s. And I look good in them. Another boost to my self-esteem.

One afternoon, I went to the Clinque counter in Macy’s and sat down for a makeup consultation. She made up my face in the “natural” style I prefer, explaining how each of the products would help my skin stay young or make me look better. I spent $200 on skin cremes and cosmetics and now use them daily. Yes — I wear makeup every day now. And I’m seeing a real difference in my skin.

But the best part was driving home from Macy’s in my Honda S2000 with the top down, when a guy in a pickup truck beside me at a light rolled down his window and called, “You look cute in that car!” Another boost to my self-esteem.

The other day, after my first court appearance for the divorce, I stopped off at the Arizona Mills mall. I needed new undergarments — everything I owned was too big. I went into Victoria’s Secret and got a professional bra fitting. (The sales woman told me my current bra was a “granny bra.” Oops.) I bought two new bras that make quite a difference in my figure — especially with the tank tops that have become a staple in my wardrobe. Let’s just say that only a blind person could mistake me for a man now. Another boost to my self-esteem.

At 51 years old, I’m not only turning heads, but I’m getting the respect and attention I deserve. My self-esteem has been repaired and is thriving.

And it’s not just self-esteem. It’s my health, too. I don’t just look good, I feel good. More energy, better stamina. Even more sex drive — which is frustrating and a shame since I have no one to share it with. I think about how good I feel now and I can’t believe I let myself go so badly. I encourage everyone reading this to evaluate their physical situation and if it’s not perfect, do something about it now.

(And to you “big and beautiful ladies” who think the extra pounds just make you more beautiful, you’re only fooling yourself. Sorry. I’ve been there and back and I know.)

I’m proud to say that my recovery from the brink took less than four months.

My GlamourShots photo session is today. I can’t wait to share the results!

My Poor Husband

Despite the incredible frustration and pain he’s been causing me almost every day for the past year or so, I still love my husband. I always will. The good memories from twenty-nine years together simply can’t be washed away.

I think he’s going through some deep psychological problems that were likely fueled by age, his unsatisfying work situation, his deteriorating relationship with me, and the promises offered by the woman he chose to replace me. I know this because I know him and how he thinks. I know that deep down inside, he’s a good person, one who is probably feeling a lot of guilt about how he’s hurting me and the people who care about both of us — people like my mother, and my stepfather, who he also lied to.

My husband’s irrational behavior over the past year or so — ramped up since I left home in May for work — is likely a textbook study of male mid-life crisis. His crisis came late in life (mine began in 2006 when I was 45) and I’m so sorry he didn’t turn to me for help. Instead, he’s found other people to help him justify his behavior toward me, to ease his guilty conscience and to support his idea that I’m some sort of evil witch who is out to ruin his life. I suspect he’ll snap out of it one day, and I hope that happens before too much more emotional damage is done.

Canyon Hike with New Friends

Posted on September 23, 2012 by Maria Langer

Nature + intelligent people + good conversation = a great time.

One of the reasons I’ve been so unhappy living in Wickenburg over the past few years is the lack of friends my own age who have similar interests.

As the years went by and Wickenburg shifted from being a ranching/tourist town to being a retirement community, all of our young friends moved away. There was Barb and Barry, who moved to New Mexico. Then Janet and Steve, who moved to Colorado. Then Lance and Keri, who moved to (of all places) Michigan. Some of our young, seasonal friends — John and Lorna come to mind — prefer hanging out with the old folks at the retirement community where they park their RV for half the year, opting for an ice cream social over a Jeep ride in the desert or a coffee gathering over a hike up Vulture Peak.

Because the town doesn’t offer enough employment opportunities for young people, it’s population continues to age, with more older folks coming here to retire, at least seasonally. I — or we, I guess I could still say — have quite a few friends old enough to be my parents. Sadly, most of these folks are not nearly as active as we are. And every year, when I return from my annual migration to Washington for work, I discover that one or more of them has died: Pete, Bill, Danny — rest in peace.

It’s depressing for someone like me who wants to remain active. While it was tolerable while I still had a husband at home — at least we could do things together on weekends — with him gone, the situation is bad. I decided to get proactive to find some friends.

I turned to Meetup.

Meetup

Meetup is a social networking service that makes it easy to find and meet up with — in person — people with similar interests for all kinds of activities. I’ve been a member for years and, in the past, have used it to hook up with a photography group based in the Phoenix area and a social group in the Wenatchee area. Last week, I worked it hard, looking for Meetup groups that might do activities near where I live. I didn’t expect to find any in Wickenburg — indeed, there are no Meetup groups within 25 miles of Wickenburg — but I found quite a few in the Phoenix area that do activities all over the state.

Last week, after hitting the Arrowhead Mall for a makeup consultation, I joined the 39 and Holding Club‘s “Hump Day” dinner, which was being held at Chili’s in Surprise, AZ. Although it was more than 30 miles from my Wickenburg home, it was still on the way home from the mall. It was a nice evening out with pleasant people. I met an interesting woman — I’ll call her “M” — who is also going through an ugly divorce that has been going on for two years now. (I sure hope mine doesn’t take that long.) M is the one who told me about Couch Surfing, which I linked to in one of my “Interesting Link” posts. So not only did I get to spend a nice evening out with new people, but I learned about some services I might want to take advantage of in the future.

I signed up with a bunch of groups for a bunch of activities ranging from wine tasting/pairing to hiking to archery lessons. My calendar is now quite full. And with new activities listed all the time, I don’t think I’ll have much trouble at all finding something interesting to do with others.

The Phoenix Atheists

I don’t usually blog about my religious non-beliefs because it results in a firestorm of comments by religious fundamentalists damning me to hell or worse. Of course, this means nothing to me because I don’t believe in hell. If you feel your anger rising now, take your blood pressure pills and move along. Comments blasting me (or others) for religious beliefs (or non-beliefs) won’t appear on this blog, so don’t waste your time posting them.

Yes, I’m an atheist. If you’ve been reading this blog regularly for a while and have somehow missed that point, shame on you. It’s not as if I hide it. If this is news to you and it upsets you, I’m sorry. I’d like to assure you that I have very strong moral convictions that don’t require an all-mighty being to supervise. I’m not a militant atheist — one who’s blasting believers all the time — I’m a live-and-let-live kind of person. If you want to believe in god, fine. Just don’t expect me to do it just because you and others do.

That said, I believe that atheists or “freethinkers” or “secular humanists” or “skeptics” — some of the names we apply to ourselves — are generally better educated, more intelligent, and better able to reason things out than the average person. I’m not saying all atheists are smarter than everyone else. I’m just saying that as a group, they tend, on average, to be brighter than the general population, better able to think before speaking, and better able to express their thoughts without offending others.

I’m not a dummy and I like talking to smart people. I like talking to people who are as smart as or smarter than me. People who can challenge me to think in a conversation. People who are able to discuss things deeper than what they saw on television last night, what’s in the news, or what they got in the latest Obama-bashing (or Romney-bashing) email in their in box. People who make me think about things that are interesting or important. People who can help me get a new angle on things, to possibly see things in a new way and build my own new conclusions. I like talking to people who can challenge me to think and to discuss things as an equal.

I figured that a group of atheists should fit the bill. So when I found out that The Phoenix Atheists Meetup Group was going for a hike at Grapevine Canyon in Mayer, AZ, I decided to join them.

Because the trailhead required a 1-1/2 mile drive down a narrow, rough road, I took my Jeep and offered up rides to anyone who didn’t have a high-clearance vehicle. I got a call from another member — we’ll call him “D” — who was driving up from Yuma in his Toyota. We agreed to meet at the shopping area at I-17 and Carefree Highway, which was on my way north to Mayer. At 7:00 AM yesterday morning, I loaded up Penny, a fanny-pack full of frozen water bottles and snacks for both of us, my camera, and my monopod, and we headed out.

I got to the rendezvous point early. I topped off the Jeep’s gas tanks, then parked by McDonalds and started looking for others in the group. Another Jeep was supposed to meet there. What I discovered is that the McDonalds there is a popular meet up place for all kinds of groups of people. I’d stop at a small group and say, “Are you here for the hike?” (I didn’t want to mention atheists because some people get silly.) One of the people in the group would respond, “No, we’re going off-roading up by Crown King. You can come with us if you want.” Or, “No, we’re going scuba diving. Want to come with us?” Or, “No, we’re with the Miata Club.” (No invitation there.) I realized that even if I had nothing planned, I could go to the McDonalds, ask around, and go with the group that seemed to be doing the most fun thing. Whoa.

I finally found the other Jeep driver, “G,” and his companion. Then D. We chatted, loaded up, and headed north on I-17 to Mayer. I followed G’s Jeep.

I thoroughly enjoyed my chat with D during the 45-minute ride to Mayer. He’s a civil engineer who works with traffic control — light timing, traffic pattern design, etc. We talked about his work and mine and about each of our divorces. He was very supportive and offered some general advice from his own experiences. Although we didn’t talk much about that — I really didn’t want to — our chat helped clear my head and put me in a more positive mood for the hike ahead.

At the turnoff, there were more members of the group. I took on another passenger and followed a Toyota FJ Cruiser down a mildly rough road, with G’s Jeep taking up the rear. At the end of that little drive were more people and vehicles. I think our group wound up with a total of 14 hikers. A good sized group.

We parked and unloaded our gear. After a briefing from the group leader, we started off up the trail.

After driving down a rough forest road and parking, we did our hike in the area marked in red. We followed Grapevine Canyon most of the way.

We were on the eastern foothills to the Bradshaw Mountains. The Bradshaws aren’t very big — I think the tallest peaks might be around 6,000 feet — and the hills climbing up to them are mostly metamorphic rock and low bushes such as holly and manzanita. I kept Penny on her leash, mostly because there had been talk of mountain lions in the area and I didn’t want her wandering off. She walked with us like a little champ and only had to be lifted over one fallen log.

The trail started as a road, then narrowed to a wide trail. At a marked fork, we took the left fork, which was supposed to be level. It wasn’t. It climbed pretty steadily but not too steeply. Because we were hiking near a dry stream bed, there were some tall tress, including oaks and various pines. Scattered clouds and the trees helped keep the sun off us. Still, I’d dressed wrong in a pair of jeans instead of shorts. It wasn’t long before I was working up a good sweat.

We found this hand-carved slingshot hanging from the vertical poles of what may have been a hunting blind in a clearing along the trail. Magnificent workmanship! Of course, we left it where we found it; I hope other hikers do the same.

Members of the group split into smaller groups and chatted as they walked. Occasionally, the front groups would stop to let the stragglers catch up. It was very rewarding to me to be able to get into a conversation with any group I wound up walking beside. I was never excluded, other members seemed to go out of their way at times to engage me in conversation. It was exactly what I wanted from the experience: a good workout with good conversation.

Meanwhile, as the trail narrowed and climbed along the dry creek bed, it became tougher to follow. Soon, we were following cairns — piles of rock left to mark the trail. After a while, I was glad I’d worn long pants — others were getting their legs scratched walking through brush. Penny kept up very well, surprising me and others.

Eventually, we reached a dry waterfall with a seep-like spring. Thick green moss, which is rare in the desert, carpeted the rocks. Small flowers bloomed here and there. Butterflies flitted about. Facing an even narrower trail up the canyon, about half of us settled down to wait for the others to continue their explorations. Because various members had hand-held radios, we were able to keep in touch with all the groups. It wasn’t long before they’d had enough and began coming back.

I captured this flower in a beam of bright sunlight.

The hike back was easier, probably because it was mostly downhill. Again, I found myself walking with different people along the way, talking about different things. It really helped keep my mind off my personal tragedy and the pain it was causing me. Being able to meet and talk to so many interesting people really pumped up my spirits.

We stopped for a long rest on the way back, mostly to gather the whole group together. I took this opportunity to give Penny some more water and let her rest.

Afterwards, we went to Leff-T’s Steakhouse in Dewey. The group insisted on us sitting on the outdoor patio so Penny could join us. I’m in the process of weaning myself off my diet — I’m very close to my final weight goal — so I ordered steak fajitas and ate about 1/3 of the portion, taking the rest home for the next two days. One of my companions kindly gave me a taste of his chicken fried steak — I love that stuff but will probably never be able to enjoy a full portion again. (Which really is a good thing, after all.)

We split up after that. D and I climbed back into the Jeep with Penny and headed back down toward Phoenix. Although it probably would have been closer for me to drive through Prescott, I admit that I looked forward to D’s company for part of the drive. We talked a lot more about what I was going through — he seemed genuinely interested and offered up all kinds of supportive words and advice. He also gave me some specifics about his post-divorce recovery process that I could apply to my own life and what I might face. It was extremely helpful to me.

After I dropped him off at McDonalds, Penny and I headed home. It was hot — seriously, I don’t understand how people could bear to live in Phoenix when the temperature is still hovering around 100°F on the first day of autumn. We made good time getting back and I was glad to pull the Jeep into the garage just as it was beginning to get dark outside. I gave Penny a much needed bath and took a hot shower to wash off the day’s sweat and dirt.

I was tired but I felt happy and hopeful for my future.

I’m really looking forward to my next outing with this group.

Postscript:
The hike leader, Al, posted a huge batch of photos that he shot before, during, and after the hike. Among them was this gem.

The ugly divorce I’m dealing with right now has been eating away at me day after day and night after night. But Al managed to capture the truth in this photo: my spirit is still alive and strong, I can still have fun, I can still be happy.

Thank you, Al. Seeing this photo really made my day.

Clothes Shopping in my Own Closet

Posted on September 19, 2012 by Maria Langer

Building a new wardrobe from an old one.

I returned to Wickenburg on Saturday and after a few minor difficulties getting into the house — a long story to be covered in the future sometime — settled down and began cleaning up the detritus of a 29-year relationship with a man who has become a stranger to me. Fortunately, he has at least one other place to live and, indeed, has already moved out. So Penny and I pretty much have the house to ourselves.

Folks who follow my blog know that I’ve been dieting all summer. I’m still losing weight — mostly because stress has taken away my appetite and keeps me on edge. The total weight loss so far is 38 pounds. That’s about 19% of my starting body weight. So I guess you can say I’m 81% of the woman I was in May.

I bought some new clothes in Washington and donated my “fat clothes” to Goodwill. But I didn’t bring all my clothes back to Wickenburg. The reason: I had a bunch of old clothes stored away in my closet — clothes from when I was thin.

This dressy pants outfit fits better than ever before.

Over the past three days, I’ve been trying on old clothes and shifting them from the back of the closet to the front. Yesterday morning, I tackled the jeans and slacks. I’d pull a pair of pants out of the closet, check the size, and then try them on. Then I’d walk into the bathroom where there’s a big mirror, and I’d check out the fit. And every single time, I’d say to myself, “I can’t fucking believe it.”

You see, with the exception of one skirt and a few pairs of jeans, I was able to get my body into every single item I tried on.

Including a denim skirt I’d made from an embroidered pair of jeans when I was in eighth grade.

In many cases, the clothes I tried on were too big. They went into the Goodwill pile. The clothes that fit got rehung on hangars at the front of the closet. Those few items that were too small — well, I’ll hold onto them just in case I keep shrinking.

Cocktail Dress
I don’t think I ever actually wore this dress. I think it was too small from the day I bought it.

Yesterday afternoon, I started on the dress clothes. I took the size 14/16 Lane Bryant dress — you ladies know what I’m talking about — off the hangar and bundled it up for my mom. Didn’t even bother trying it on — I know I’d be swimming in it. (It’s going to be very long on my mother.) I found a slacks outfit with a cute little short jacket and put the jacket on — 10 years of age fell off me. It looked sharp! And that little cocktail dress I wanted to get into? No problemo! Can’t wait to start wearing it on dates.

I continued going through clothes this morning and will likely continue tomorrow. It’s not just the closet — which I’m almost finished with — but it’s the dresser drawers and the storage bins under the bed. There’s just so much of it.

A wardrobe essential: a short black skirt. I have four of them.

What I’m really glad about, however, is that I didn’t do this last year. I almost did several times, but the task was too daunting. If I’d done it, however, I would have thrown away the skinny clothes and then I’d have nothing that fit me now!

At this point, my car trunk and front passenger seat are completely filled with bags and laundry baskets full of clothes and old purses for the local thrift shop. I’ll drop them off on my way out of town this afternoon. (I’m heading down to the mall to get a makeup consultation and then have dinner with a singles meetup group.)

The best thing about this shopping spree? It didn’t cost me a thing.