tobermory's Diaryland Diary


Shut out

Last night I went over for a tour and sales spiel of the close-to-me health club. I think I’ll join – it is less than a 5-minute walk to get there, they do have plenty of evening and weekend classes, and I really prefer the regular-guy vibe they have over the more glitzy youth oriented vibe I get at my current health club. I think I’ll run by tonight with the requisite funds to join and pay the membership through the end of the year. I’ll cancel my membership at the other club in a month or two – I have to figure out the procedure for that. I think I need to send them a letter written in goat’s blood and promise them the naming rights to my firstborn or something. I can always get a 20-visit pass if I still think I might want to get the occasional SpinBob fix, because, y’know, those calves he has are something to look at. Plus he really does have the very best music of any spin instructor in the area.

Does the fact that I don’t want to shop at a place called ‘Food for Less’ make me a snob? Probably. I don’t even know what it is, (I just overheard one of my co-workers mention stopping there on the way home) but it sounds so Soviet and grim. Like the kind of place that has dairy products one day away from their expiration date, a few bins of wilty root vegetables, some unidentified cuts of meat in a sketchy freezer case that needs to be defrosted, and shelves of off-brand mac’n’cheese and breakfast cereals. For all I know it’s perfectly fine, but it has one of those names like ‘Dress Barn’ or ‘Spaghetti Factory’ that really need to be rethought in order to project a more modern and positive image. In my uber-snobby way, I probably spend more on my groceries than I should because I shop at places that have correspondingly twee names like: Foodstuffs, The Carrot Top, A la Carte, The Grand Food Market, and Treasure Island. Sure, I hit the Dominick’s/Safeway for the everyday stuff, but I prefer to inject a little class into humdrum activities when I can. Who doesn’t?

I was shut out in my quest to book a pedicure or a massage before my hair appointment on Saturday. I hate wedding and prom season – the gaggles of screechy women who hog the whole salon really throw a wrench in my personal maintenance. I think that I’m into the season where I’ll have to book my next batch of appointments on my way out the door which I hate doing – it makes the salon sort of feel like a dentist’s office. And, I have no idea what my hair will look like in 8 weeks – I can guess, but it will only be a stab in the dark. Sometimes the highlights hold up fine, sometimes I need to go in after only 6 weeks. Gah. I guess I’ll just have to roll the dice and guess that 8 weeks will be ok. My new salon has massage therapists on staff and their price is pretty reasonable ($85 for an hour and a half) so I might try to make an appointment there – it would be sweet to be able to stumble the three blocks home and just hop into bed or onto the couch.

New Resolution Diary
Dinner yesterday: meat/spinach ravioli w/ tomato sauce, 2 slices of Italian bread, scoop of cherry tomato/mozzarella salad, glass of wine, mini Take 5 bar.
Breakfast: Greek yogurt (honey)
Lunch: Campbell’s creamy Portobello soup, a medium tomato, and a cara-cara orange.
Snack: Banana
Dinner (since I actually planned it): meatloaf, twice baked potato, brocollini, glass of red wine.
Reading: almost finished with Good Grief. I have a Faulkner novel to read next if I feel up to it.

3:23 p.m. - 2006-04-26


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