animallyson

Operation: Sloth No More Update!

Fri, 07 Oct 2005 21:24:08 GMT

So, I've hit the gym every day this week, and am down to 135 lbs. If this keeps up, I'll be back to my goal weight by the end of the year.

Go, me.

Program: Sloth No More!

Sun, 02 Oct 2005 13:33:52 GMT

So, I've started a new program: Sloth No More 2005!

I'm possibly the laziest person know to man. The mere thought of exercise makes me cringe. This coupled with an office full of snacks has casused me to go from a svelte size 4 to zaftig size 8 over the past couple of years. I know, I know. I'm not fat, far from it. However, I *feel* better being smaller. That and it's much cheaper to lose some weight rather than purchase a new wardrobe.

So now I'm tracking my weight & working out in my journal. Figure I might be more persistant if other people can see this.

Start weight: 137.4

Dang, I'm chunky! I thought I was like 125 or so. Whoops!

Today's goals: not to eat entire bag of cookies in living room, at least 20 minutes on elliptical machine.

On being ill...

Thu, 20 Jan 2005 17:05:15 GMT

So I guess I was overdue for some sort of illness. Beyond my annual mild sinus infection, I'm actually fairly healthy (well, healthy by my own definition-living with IBS, allergies & carpal tunnel might not qualify as normal to some, but for me, that's pretty damn good). Well, this year I've been attacked with a 1-2-3 punch. I came down with a cold or the flu on my birthday weekend, which progressed into my friend, the sinus infection. After a bout with antibiotics, I thought I had won, that I was home free. Enter yesterday. I feel suddenly as if I'm wearing a corset-I can't get in any sort of normal breath, let alone a deep one. Call the doctor, who sends me in for a chest x-ray (fun, fun, at least I was able to leave the piercing in). The good news: it's NOT pneumonia. The bad news: who knows what it might be? So I'm back to sqaure one, I'm just sleeping all weekend if I have my way, maybe I can beat it off that way. Otherwise, back to the doctor on Tuesday afternoon. Such fun.

On a happy note, I swear my friends know when I'm sick, as I received calls & messages from them yesterday. This makes me happy, even if I can't breathe normally.

And my office has been less than stellar in letting me take time off to recuperate. This makes me cranky. Never work for a small company-they notice it when you're not around. Next time I sell out, it will be to a big office again, thanks much.

Random thoughts on being an adult (supposedly)

Sun, 16 Jan 2005 21:06:47 GMT

So my parents just left my place. They had come over to fix my faucet. I had a little incident this week where I broke the cold water tap in my bathroom. Since the other sink is full of hair stuff (I leave my hairdryer & a multitude of brushes, hairpins, etc in the other sink for some reason), I've had to brush my teeth with scalding hot water for a few days. As I apparently am incapable of taking care of myself, I did what any normal adult would do. I called my dad & begged him to come over & fix it. And he did, after a stop at the hardware store for a new handle. I learned that calling dad is still the fastest way to get things repaired in my house, and that fixing a tap is actually really easy. My parents then proceeded to clean up my place somewhat & hang up some shelves & pictures for me. They're well aware that I never find the time to deal with these things myself. Hell, they know that I've trained myself not to even SEE these things. What coffee grounds on the kitchen floor? What do you mean you can't walk to the bathroom? Just step over those piles of books, and those 4 coats I left on the hall floor. They won't bite, I swear.

As they left, I realized that I am the least adult 27 year old in the greater DC area. Possibly on the east coast. If left to my own devices, I would never, ever think to fix anything in my house. Ever. (or pick up my coat from the floor for that matter). This combined with the fact that I can't cook and admitted to the guy I'm seeing that I don't know how to iron is making me feel like a domestic failure.

And therefore, my plan for 2005 is to learn to be an adult. This entails learning how to cook, at least to some degree of functionality, and learning that things do not magically fix themselves if you whine enough. Ok, they do, but the price is rather high, as most people don't like you if you whine. This much even I know. Wish me luck in my new endeavors. At least hope that I don't burn down my house attempting to fix dinner this week.

Dirty little secrets...

Sun, 16 Jan 2005 20:46:14 GMT

I feel dirty. The reason for my shame? Reading the livejournal of the guy I recently started seeing. Now I know that this is a public journal and all, but it still seems terribly invasive to me. For not only did I read the recent entries, in a fit of boredom (and snoopy curiosity) I read all the way back to 2002. That's right, I basically raided his mind for the past 3 years. Now wouldn't you feel a little dirty if you did the same? Or even worse, if someone did this to you? Yes, it's public domain. That doesn't make it honorable to do it.

So, basically, in response, I think it's only fair to begin a journal of my own. This way, everyone can read all my secrets, and I feel less creepy for having snooped. Really, online journals are a dangerous thing. They create this sort of false intimacy with people you really don't know yet. Sort of like sea monkeys-instant boyfriend, just add water. Or something to that effect. In a matter of a few hours, you can find out everything you've ever wanted to know about your new date, and a few things you really didn't need to know. This, for me at least, leads to these rapid-fire relationships. People just sort of take up residence in your life as if they'd always been there. What's lost is that sort of trust that can only be gained from years of knowing someone, the sort of trust that comes when you don't NEED to know everyone's dirty little secrets. Instead this is replaced with the uneasy knowledge that you know too much-you've seen the flaws, the neuroses, all up front. What's really left to learn? And how do you really define intimacy anymore?

And therefore, I've decided to let people I don't know read my mind for a bit. Perhaps I'll come to terms with what I see as a major transgression. Perhaps not. But at least I feel that I'll have leveled the playing field a bit.