tobermory's Diaryland Diary

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Too much to do

I would love to do nothing more than sit around the yard this weekend reading one of the zillion books I have piled up but I donít think thatís an option. Tomorrow I have to go to a baby shower that is 2 hours away for a woman Iíve never even met Ė one of Steveís friends knocked her up. Swell. Sunday is the last Belly Dance Class (until the next session starts) and after we have an outing to a Turkish restaurant to see REALY belly dancers. In between these things I have to:

Vacuum the two weeks of accumulated hair off of every surface in the house
Clean the bathroom
Work on the front dirt patch in an attempt to make it look like something other than a dirt patch
Go to the gym once

I think I need a third day this weekend. I hope yours is better than mine.

Breakfast: yogurt, Kix
Hereís a mildly amusing yogurt story. In sixth grade I loved the band The Who almost more than life itself. I could have bored you for hours blithering on about the genius of Pete Townshend, the rock steady bass of John Entwistle, debating the drumming styles of Keith Moon vs. Kenny Jones (Keith wins hands down every time), and waxing rhapsodic about Roger Daltreyís anguished yet sexy screams on ĎLove Reigns Oíer Meí and ĎWonít Get Fooled Againí. Mostly I could wax rhapsodic about how hot I thought Roger Daltrey was. Never mind that I was basing this on publicity photos from the late 60ís and early 70ís and it was now 1982 and by this time olí Rog was looking a wee bit weather beaten. I suppose it was also a little creepy fantasizing about me, a wee 12 year old, running away to find my dream man who was at that time 38. Since my chances of escaping to London to track him down were slim to none I did the next best thing I could think of Ė I totally emulated anything about him that I could. I read that in order to take care of his tender and valuable vocal chords he ate yogurt every day, so I dispatched my mom to the grocery to buy me some yogurt. Now 1982 yogurt is not the yogurt of today. Today itís all about creamy custardy texture and blended in fruit essences, but back then it was totally gross. I remember opening the little tub and mixing up the three distinct layers: the fruit on the bottom, the gluey looking white yogurt, and the nasty liquid that rises to the top. Needless to say I donít think I even ate a single bite. Even my love for Roger couldnít overcome the repulsion. Anyway, it was all over two years later when I discovered The Police. God Sting was so hot before he became all tantric and self-righteous. And no Iím not going to see them at Wrigley Field. I bought my tickets and everything but then realized that I had seen them in all their perfection already: the opening show of the Synchronicty tour at Comisky Park where they played with: Simple Minds, The Fixx, Joan Jett, Flock of Seagulls, and pre-metal still-new-wave Ministry. You just canít beat that memory so I sold the tickets to a friend who has never seen them.
Lunch: Lean Cuisine chicken club Panini (***). They actually managed to make this feel a little bit greasy and it only had 9 grams of fat. Nectarine.
Dinner: Iím on my own for this one because Steve will be at the Sox/Cubs game. I have some tofu in the fridge so I think I might make a little stir fry **UPDATE** So much for the stir fry. I just didn't feel like cooking so I ate a tomato, some roasted mixed mushrooms, and some raspberries and blueberries.
Weight: Iím not going to weigh myself today because I have on jeans and heavy shoes that will artificially inflate me. And in case youíre thinking, Ďjust take off the stinking shoes and get on the scale!,í let me tell you that you do not step on an industrial scale in a machine shop in bare feet Ė there is all manner of greasy little metal shards just waiting in work their way into my tender footsies. So, Iíll just make sure to wear a skirt on Monday with my ballet flats and weigh in then. I do know that on Wednesday (I know, I know Ė I swore up and down that Iíd only weigh in on Monday and Friday but I felt light on Wednesday) I had dropped a total of 8 lbs. for a final weight of 168. Woot! Under 170!

Exercise: Boot Camp Ė another hour of military-style calisthenics and some running in the park. Owie. Lucky for me I stocked up on Advil. But, on the up side, Week One is over Ė only 14 more classes to go.

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2:31 p.m. - 2007-06-22

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