That was a search term that got someone to my humble corner of the internet yesterday.

It’s more interesting than “cranberry oatcakes” but I’m befuddled over how this search term sent someome to me. It feels racier than I tend to think my blog is. Is there something I’m missing? Some secret sexiness that I haven’t intended but through some strange alchemy appears on search engine results?

What’s interesting about this is that I had been intending to write about my body today.  The last time I wrote about my body, it was because someone had searched for “fear in a box“… I like this, it’s like a game – search terms appear on my stats page, and I have to find a way to wrap them into my  Box 761-iverse.

Not sure what to do about this one. There are all sorts of tortured conceits I could twist about – my own body consciousness, my feeling invisible in the world because of it, my thinking it might be kind of nice to be wanted for my body, the beauty of my big brain…. blah blah blah.

But you know, I’m kind of bored with the whole thing. I’m eating better, I’m trying to be more active, and I’m overweight. I want it to disappear without my having to exert myself. It won’t.

The boring truth is that as with anything else, only time and effort will fix it.

I prefer to think about this as being from some other perspective. Say, what if my husband wrote that search term?  Let me tell ya, I like him for more than that… don’t worry, my love. You keep writing blogs like this and you’ll have nothing to worry about.

Life is good, my friends. I’m feeling lighter and happier than I’ve been in years. My family is happy and whole and healthy. I’m taking great big gulps of this and savoring every moment. I’ve spent the past too many years waiting for that “other shoe” to drop. It’s not that I don’t still, in my secret self, expect another shoe… it’s just that all of a sudden I don’t really care.

I’m fairly sure I can take whatever that shoe throws at me (man, I wish I had an editor. They would tell me that was not a great sentence). I’m sure that even if another shoe does drop (oh, I get it. It throws a shoe at me! phew. oh… wait.)….

Ah hell, I’ll just go barefoot from now on. That way, if a shoe drops, I won’t need to wait for the other.