Skinny People and T&A

Ozempic has hit Seattle.

I have seen a bunch of people shrink before my eyes. It is a little weird to see someone who was previously carrying an extra eighty pounds in the gut look like a bean pole, like one of the guys I used to work with who had a truckload of health problems. I didn't recognize a woman in my building because she lost so much weight. And this woman I would not have considered heavy. Maybe she was a little thick, but not any more so than other middle aged women. She looks like a different person, and I saw her a month ago. I also have one friend who lost a significant amount of weight, and she looks fabulous.

I don't want to pass judgement on people who take the drug or don't take it. I clearly understand the health benefits of losing weight. There is a Seattle doctor who believes in prescribing Ozempic for her obese patients who have Type 2 Diabetes and are on multiple meds for high blood pressure and whatnot. She figured if you get rid of the weight issue, then everything else takes care of itself. Her patients on Ozempic don't need other medications, which is awesome.

Nevertheless, I wonder if all of these vanishing people are taking Ozempic to get off of meds.

I got an email from one of my health care groups asking me if I was interested in a weight loss drug. I plugged in my numbers and it popped back that I could lose up to 30 pounds. (I've lost at least ten pounds since my peak pandemic weight, which is nice.) 

Would I want to lose that weight? I am not so sure. Filling in the computer questionnaire, it made me wonder. I worked my way out of Type 2 Diabetes by adjusting reducing processed foods, sugar and alcohol. I don't have high blood pressure. I am not on any medications related to my heart or kidneys, nor am I on anti-depressants. I would love to be more fit, but I am not sure I wanted to be smaller. I think I'd rather exercise more--walk, play pickleball, ride my bike, hike and paddle board--before I'd take a weight loss drug.

I am also thinking I like my body more or less the way it is. I don't think I want to change my body that much that I'd take Ozempic. To be fair, when I gain weight, it adds to my curves. When I was complaining about my weight once to my daughter, she said it doesn't matter if I gain weight since it all goes to my "boobs and booty."

Even if I were to lose weight, I'd still have the same life, the same job, the same problems. Ozempic wouldn't give me a personality overhaul, make me funnier or kinder or smarter. 

Norway!

Aside from the emergency plane landing, the blustery arctic weather, and calling search and rescue to find my missing daughter, the trip was great!

A friend recently asked me the best thing about the trip, and I said the bread. In the U.S., whatever they put in the bread makes me fall asleep. In Norway, they had a hearty brown bread that I'd slather with butter and salt. Soooo delicious! And I stayed awake!

The boat ride through the fjords was amazing, beautiful, and peaceful. There were ten people on the boat, including the skipper. Everyone had to take turns making meals, cleaning the kitchen, and help running the boat. The skipper could do it all himself if needed, but everyone was able-bodied (some more than others) and we took turns at the helm and hoisting the sails. One of my co-workers asked if I was fully trained to be a deck hand. Yes, not as much as Claire-Adele. She was one of the few people on board who would jump off the boat onto the dock to pull the boat in. My agility isn't what it used to be.

One of the most important things I learned was how to get along with eight strangers in tight quarters for more than a week. One woman told her travel companion to fuck off and they didn't talk to each other for the rest of the trip. Honestly, I wasn't surprised that didn't happen more often. But then again, being kind is a choice. In order to survive and have a peaceful holiday, everyone has to give grace when crammed together like a bunch of sardines. 

I am not going to talk anymore. I know you want to see pictures. Here you go!

The Boat

The Northern Lights. Photo taken by a friend from the boat

At the end of the trip without washing my hair eight days. Not too bad!

Cabin

Fresh catch

My new hat and fancy sunglasses.

We got to hike a bit, which was nice.

Our boat, the Draco.

The Draco again

Red was the cheapest paint color ages ago. White was the most expensive. Who knew?

Me and a boat friend taking a cold dip.

The orange one in the middle is the Draco.

Me before the trip, both excited and terrified.

Trollfjord

Hibernating and Water and Boat

 I've been back from Norway for two weeks, and I am still hibernating from the trip. I am not sure what is going on. I feel like I have cotton in my brain,

Today, I got back on the water with my paddle board. Green Lake is full of toxic algae, so I went to Lake Washington. It was so nice to be back on the water, floating and bouncing and riding the waves. 

One of the weirdest things about being on a boat is getting off the boat and getting on land. When I've taken fishing trips with Pedro, we stand on a float boat for hours along the Kootenai River. When the trip was over, I get back to the hotel and the room felt like it was swaying. One of the women on the Norway trip called the phenomenon "Boat" when you are on land but feel like you are swaying like you still on the boat. It means your body has adjusted to the boat, and rebels when you are off of it. Or maybe my body was missing being on the water.

Today, I was happy to be back on the water. I never thought that being on the water would be my happy place, but it is becoming that way.

Assumptions

August 28, 2025

First, everything is fine. I’m still in Norway and this story has a happy ending otherwise I wouldn’t be writing about it yet. 

Claire-Adele and I took a gondola up a mountain in Bergen for the view. It was great. From the top of the mountain, there are several hiking “trails.” I loosely use the word trail because Europeans “tramp” instead of hike. In the US, we stay on the path for fear of stamping on flowers or grass or whatever. Europeans are much more cavalier: they walk wherever they want - trail or no trail. 

Anyway, Claire-Adele and I took a gondola to the top of a mountain and went for a short hike. There is a bar and grill at the top of the mountain, and it looked like someone is hosting a corporate event here.

So we go for our hike, and we agree that will split off. It is about 6:20 p.m. She will hike ahead for about ten minutes, and I will stay and wait for her. When she comes back, we will take the gondola back down the mountain and take the bus back to the hotel around 7:15. We will go to an Indian restaurant near the hotel.

I wait for Claire-Adele. 

And wait.

And wait.

It isn'y uncommon that hiking takes longer that one thinks it should, so I am not alarmed.

It is close to 7:00, and I've been in the same spot for almost 40 minutes with no sign of her. I wonder where she is. I text, but no reply. I text her to tell her I am going up the trail a bit to see if I can find her.

I can't.

I text again. No reply. 

I text her on WhatsApp. 

No reply.

At 7:00, I wonder where she is.

At 7:15, I become concerned.

Around 7:30, I start to worry. I head back to the cafe to see if she is there. She is not. I ask a few people I saw on the trail if they saw a 25 year old woman in a white shirt and black pants. 

No.

Claire-Adele likes to hike and will take her time, but she has never been inconsiderate.

I tell someone at the cafe I can't find my daughter. There aren't forest rangers here -- just people who work at the restaurant. A woman listens, and looks alarmed.

"Someone died here three months ago," she said.

Now I am panicking.

"Would you like me to call the Red Cross search and rescue?" It is 7:45. It is getting dark and it is raining. By 8:15, I've talked to the police. They ask what hotel we are staying at, and if she could be there.

"I don't know," I said. "I didn't see her cross me on the path. I don't think she is there." I am convinced she is still on the mountain, lost or hurt or worse. She still isn't answering her phone.

"Should I go look for her on the trail? Should I go back to the hotel?" I ask the Norwegian police officer. 

"No," she said. "Wait in the restaurant." It is getting cold, and Claire-Adele isn't wearing a warm jacket. When we came to the mountain, it was 75 degrees. Now it is raining and in the 60's. I hang up with the police officer. She has my number to call me back.

I am lost be befuddled. I consider calling someone--anyone--stateside. At what point to I call Claire-Adele's dad to tell him she is missing?

I stare at my phone, waiting for something.

All of a sudden, I see her initials pop on her text screen.

"I'm at the hotel," she said. "Where are you?"

I burst into tears, sobbing. The cafe people call off the police to let them know Claire-Adele has been found. The help me down the gondola, and order me a cab back to the hotel.

"My phone died on the mountain," she texted. "I had 15% and then it died."

I meet Claire-Adele at the hotel.

"I am so sorry, Mom," she said. "You must have been scared."

She has no idea.

We discussed how we got our wires crossed. When she walked back, she didn't see me on the trail, so she assumed I was back at the cafe. She saw a woman who looked like me get on the gondola, and went down. It wasn't me, she quickly figured out, but it was too late. She waited for more gondolas, before she walked two miles back to the hotel. She plugged in her phone and texted me.

I assumed that since I didn't see her that she was still on the mountain. I also assumed her phone was charged and she got my texts.

It all ended well, but man that did a umber on my nerves.

On Top of the World

Aug. 18, 2025

I’m sitting right now north of the Artic Circle. I can’t believe it. It freaks me out a little bit to be so far away from home and to be some place so remote. I’m in the little town of Bodo (pronounced Buddha) which is mostly industrial until fifteen years ago when they decided to cater to tourists.

In a two days, Claire-Adele and I will embark on an eight trip through fjords of Lofoten on a fifty foot sailboat.

Right now, it is raining sideways, the wind is howling and the water is choppy. 

I am going to spend eight days on a boat in this shit?

What the fuck am I thinking? Why am I doing this? How come I didn't read the fine print or google where "Lofoten" was? I had no idea it was north of the Artic Circle. I thought the trip dipped north of the Artic Circle, but we are well above the line now, and the trip starts further north. My friend J did this trip last year and I thought it sounded super cool when J talked about it. I sent the link to Claire-Adele and let her pick the trip. Seriously. It was fine she picked the trip, but I could have read about what she picked. What was I thinking?

My friend Jen took a road trip in Norway last year at the same time and she said it rained every day. Not a little rain, but it poured. The videos on the website show people in bikini's jumping off boats. There is no way I would be jumping off a boat in this weather. No way. I doubt I'd die, but it would be really, really unpleasant.

Yeah, so I'm terrified. I am excited, but also terrified. Terri-cited, I think is what Glennon Doyle would call this.

I hope this doesn't suck.

Maybe it is better that I didn't read up about this before. I probably wouldn't have signed up.

Yes, I am north of the Arctic Circle.

Scandinavians know their pastries.