Clammy is off fighting the good fight at the gym. So I am taking this time to send some inspirational thoughts her way, like so many doves. Soon you will be lithe and muscular, nibbling at your Ricola and sniffing derisively at the spare-tire pushup pant wearing teens as they run for the Mister Softee truck, wheezing through their blow holes. To help you on your way, there are several new diets you might try. I am on all of them!
South Reach Diet
If you are prevented by your expanse from grooming anything “south of the equator,” there are handy recipes for rock soup (it’s a concentration of taste!) combined with nightly stretching. The Don’t List is headed by cheese fries and Pop-Tarts.
Did you know that water can contain CARBS?! Make sure you purchase a carb-free water and boil it down to its essential, mineral rich purity. This savory dish should be served hot in a glass bowl to avoid too much iron. Moisten a face cloth to suckle whenever you crave a Snack! Remember, moisture is the essence of wetness and wetness is the essence of beauty.
My personal favorite diet acknowledges the fact that Eating represents total failure of will power. The truly dedicated will abstain from ingestion of evil calories:
Negative Thought Weight
Studies show that thinking about food does not provide any undesirable thought weight. So break out the lasagna, the fritos, and the gorgonzola bacon baguettes- you can roll them across the conveyor belt in your mind at a sumptuous ZERO CALORIES!!
I am having cheese toast right this minute.
Has anyone ever said “Get at me” or “Hit me up” to you? I believe it means “Please return my phone call or instant message as soon as you are able.” But one never knows. Please stop saying it if you employ such terminology; it grates.
Today I was dutifully trotting on the treadmill, and I noticed all the bizarre things other people do in the gym. One gentleman has a routine of pointing at himself in the mirror, with alternating hands, as he bestrides the elliptical machine. Another woman tries to access the internet with her Palm Pilot while she’s on the stepper. I can get a good look at this in the mirror in front of me, as she bobs up and down and deploys antennae and swears.
And what do I do? We-ell. I thought about pointing back at the man behind me, but mainly I like to keep a bemused, vacant look on my face, as if I just won an Academy Award. I don’t want to look too pleased at how my deltoids glisten in the mirror. I want to remember things, like thanking my husband and my manager. Mainly I totally space out.
I did a controlled experiment with the heart rate sensor too. When I think happy self-involved thoughts, say, about my hair, it’s just fine. When I think of getting a job it shoots right up! Out of the cardio zone!
I’ve been trying the boxing stuff too. Soon I will be wiry, yet thick-necked, like Secretariat or Geri Halliwell. I asked my trainer “Why am I not losing tons of weight?” And he replied that I should work on my diet, perhaps cut out that bottle of wine I drink every night. Good god. Luckily pills are still OK!
I was at the gym today, feeling the dark side of the force. Flexing anger through burning muscle. Although, there’s only so much posturing I can do when I carry a Hello Kitty discman. Anyway, I was at the part of the song that goes “tell me baby how does it feel/I know you like the roll of the limousine wheel”. Everytime I hear that my mind departs from the physical effort. I am dreaming of riding in a long, dark car, ensconced in soft fake white fur to which perfume still invitingly clings, in perfect makeup and glasses as shiny as the windows.
Well, its time for more pretense. Tonight was made for dancing!
I have finally finished my portrait of my roommate Abbs, a soft and lovely girl. I painted her like someone that you imagine smells nice…and has bruises on her legs. I have started a new one of a cigar sucking androgyn. An athlete with long brown hair and polka dots. I am going to paint all the lovely girls of my acquaintance, so stay tuned. Oh, and if you happen to be one of these, do volunteer! And pull the sailor suit out of your closet and your crutches and your favorite underwear and purple eyeshadow and get your cans over to my house!
In other news of stunning feats, I cleaned my room.
I am also pleased to report that I Feel FÂ°!”Â§ing Awesome because I went to the gym yesterday and rowed 60 lbs, like, until I died. Then I came home and gorged on lasagna. Like Garfield. So I went back to the gym again today and redid my good work of yesterday. And I feel like I could kill someone with my bare hands. Like really overpower someone and strangle them while their blows across my chest grow weaker and weaker. ahem.
Hooray for feeling good!
It’s time for sushi and sake. and violence.
Gone are the days of me eating cheese and sucking down tequila, falling into some paranoid dream with a full belly and my boots still on.
Well, not OVER. Can’t I be gin-sodden and be FIT? Science is about to tell us this. Last night was my first appointment with Thunder, my personal trainer. It was great! “Feel the burn!”, he said, “Are you sure you have never done this before?” Oh my god, if I had a nickel for every time…
Today is the first day of the rest of my life. So glad i began it by waking up in my clothes, laying in a drooling heap atop my presents. And such lovely presents they were! Thank you all for being my friends and coming out and clinking my glass. And giving me stuff.
And thanks, Licketysplit, for being the best pal ever.
Tonight I am going to road test my birthday present to myself- a gym membership. Yikes. In just a few hours I will be having my body fat circled with a felt tip pen by some horribly buff person. I know what you are all thinking: “fitness is not our lambchop, knocking back gin and eating popcorn while watching 20 minute workourt on tv is our lambchop!” Hrmm, I really can’t argue with that. But I did get impossibly adorable Betty Boop themed workout clothes- they even had polka- dotted sweatbands!