Control Freaking

We received our acceptance letter for the California Melee folks yesterday (you have to be acceptable to be accepted). We will be leaving this Saturday morning at 8 am. 

Last night as I was snuggled up inside my lymphedema pump next to Chris (we lead such a romantic life), we were discussing aspects of the upcoming trip. I could feel this sort of agitation welling up inside of me but I couldn't pinpoint the source (other than me) (at first). A typical defense of mine will be to start a conversation with Chris by making judgements about an event or a person. I started in with my judgements:

• There would be a lot of drinking.

• There will be too much food. From previous trips, I saw pictures of ENORMOUS hamburgers, huge onion rings, the crisp cooked dough resembling Chaka Khan's lips fresh out of a deep fryer. I made judgements about the food choices being trailer, (meaning white bread and mayo, maybe even bologna!)

• Evenings would be spent hanging out by the cars in parking lots of dumpy hotels, drinking BEER and talking about a whoever's car or boobs, but mostly cars though I would not rule out boobs talking about cars. 

I know, I know. Why did I say I'd attend this event if I don't like to drink, (all THAT much) eat oil-slicked onion rings and shoot the breeze with total strangers about cars while downing beer in parking lots of cheap hotels with my cleavage being used as a head rest? I don't know. I can't explain it.

I want to support Chris ... somewhat. I mean, I want to support his hobby and his business (and this part of his business is schmoozing with other car people so he can sell his services to them). I've been supporting him throughout though I've also tried to come up with something, some event that he and I can share together... something that will bring us closer together. Something fun and inspirational... maybe the Barbie Doll Convention (which I'd hate but would still go to just to spite) being held in Kansas in 2009 - yeah, Kansas, we went a few years ago. I liked Kansas. I could go again for the sake of our relationship.

Coming off of a cancer diagnosis you'd think I would have learned about how little control we think we have but I still find myself trying to orchestrate from a distance. I don't know what it is about uncertainty except that it's scary as hell and it makes me nervous. I have no idea the route of this car event (which doesn't matter really in the scheme) and no say in where we will spend the night or what restaurant (fast food?) (other than to stay home which more often than not, I chose to do because that's where I am most comfortable - my shelter from the storm of drunks in cars in parking lots of cheap-ass hotels). I don't know anyone attending the event but Chris, and well, I know him already. He and I talk in the car. We don't have to hang out in the parking lot with the cars. We don't have to drink beer, or at least I don't have to drink beer.

There are so many things out of my control. I can't control cancer or any other illness but I can change how I feel about them and how I deal with them. I learned years ago that I can't control another person no matter how hard I tried.  (That's why guns were invented.) When I realize that I'm trying to control, it is a source of tremendous frustration. And when I am trying to control, I am not in control.

So I'm thinking that I will use this occasion to practice some self-control. It should be a big challenge. I'm going to stop with any negativity about the trip (except when I blog about it). I'm going to visualize having a good time. I'm going to practice being a grown up. I'm going to make a concentrated effort to stop being miserable BEFORE the actual trip because I want to set a good example for Chris and the folks at the Barbie Convention in 2009.