2:05 p.m. - 2005-10-17
However, in spite of my deathly illness, I did go to a concert Friday night. Neil Diamond, baby. The King of the Cheese. I don’t believe I have ever witnessed that much cheese outside of a fondue pot. But it was awesome. He put on a great show, and we had absolutely fantastic seats (12th row center, I think). Plus, the combo of cough syrup + cocktail ensured that I had an excellent little buzz going.
The crowd was interesting, to say the least. All ages, all sexes, all races…everything from Grandmas in matchy outfits to a gay man in a sequined shirt to a little kid in shorts to 30-somethings in hoochie-wear. Four girls who looked to be in their twenties had on black t-shirts with white letters, and the letters were words to Neil Diamond songs (each had a different one). My favorite, of course, was “Store Bought Woman.” Unfortunately, none of the pre-made concert shirts said that. Too bad, because I went with GEB and he wanted one.
The remainder of the weekend was spent playing stupid video games and sleeping. And I grocery shopped. I did not buy any junk. I did not buy anything other than healthy food. That is all I am eating this week. I have reached the conclusion that I cannot possibly have anything remotely resembling a snack food in my house, or I will consume all of whatever it is. Therefore, we have fruit, and veggies, and frozen dinners, and soup, and stuff to make sandwiches. No chips. No crackers I actually like to eat plain. No cheese cubes or cheese sticks or candy or snacky cakes or granola bars.
I hate it that I have no self-control when it comes to food. I wrote about that here, but it’s really been driven home to me lately that this IS an addiction, it’s not rational, it’s not normal, and it’s going to kill me if I don’t get it under control. I have to quit seeing it as:
Unfortunately, I cannot just make food the enemy. We must come to some sort of truce, an uneasy alliance where we are always watching one another for signs of treachery.
I have to recommit to changing my life. When I first started dieting/exercising, I wondered how anyone ever stopped doing it once they were on a roll. One day, I will learn to quit asking questions like that…”how could they feel that way? Why don’t they just DO IT?” etc….because somehow, I always find out the answers. You get sick, or tired, or have a string of holidays. As the memories of the gym grow fainter and your workouts grow fewer and farther between, you start remembering only the pain and the agony and not the good parts. And then you start remembering how yummy food tastes that is bad for you. And before you know it, you’ve started to gain back what you’ve lost.
I want to be a healthy weight. I don’t care about being waifish (which would be almost impossible). I do, however, care about my body listening when I tell it to do stuff…like run, or jump, or lift something, or walk a long way, or sit in a chair without being cramped. I just don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb. I mean, I’m tall and I have red hair, as it is. That should be quite enough attention-getters for anyone.
Okay, enough of that wacky self-improvement talk. I’ve got an idea. Since we can do guest entries now, it’s time for another little song-lyric quiz. Google not, grasshoppers. These are harder than the last ones…a little, anyway. Contest closes Wednesday at noon, CDT. The winner will have the option of (a) writing a guest entry here or (b) me writing a guest entry for them.
1. “She loves me, I mean it’s serious.”
E-mail your answers to me here.