Weighty Issues.

Rang in the New Year overweight, as always, and, as always, Sad.  That was the main impetus for Dry January.  Well, that, and the fact that, if I shed problems like onion skins, I'd get to the root of Things.

Don't know that that's what's happening, but do know that not drinking alcohol leads to wanting to cut back on caffeine, which leads to a whole bunch of other things.

In one of my stronger, more inspired moments of late, opened a box containing a journal dating back from 2012, where I found myself 20 lbs lighter than I am now ... Fretting about how I needed to lose 10 lbs.

I've always been chunky.  I probably always will be.  Doesn't mean that I'm not healthy or athletic; just means that I am Bigger than what current aesthetics dictate.

Let's us not worry so much about weight / being thin, and worry more about the body chemistry issues.  Cholesterol is fine, but could be better.  Blood sugar is fine.  Blood pressure is only high when I stress out over going to get it checked.

This is me back in 2009 - same as in 2012, when I was all upset over things.  2018 me *loves* this portrait of me, chunky as I may be.

Speaking of books: we decided on Cabeza de Vaca's adventures, which are sort of turning out to be like the Keystone Kops or something (that's what it seems like right now at the beginning of things, anyway).

Happy Earth Day.



Should go without saying, but will repeat it anyway: NSFW.

(21st anniversary of Gaia busting my nose, too, by the way.)

Malcolm McLaren has died.

Guess he was best known for managing the Sex Pistols and Bow Wow Wow (one of Boy George's early efforts).

I'll always remember him for bringing Elitist Music to the Masses, though:



Gerome meets Cinemax after the kids have been put to bed.

Not to mention fusing The Urban Culture with the Cowboy Way.

Say what one wants, will maintain that he was one heck of a Bridge Builder.

Thought I was on the road to recovery back-wise; guess I was wrong. Woke up with much difficulty this morning and limped along as best as I could for a while. Round mid afternoon, a spasm so strong that I nearly lost my lunch completely broadsided me. Lie on the floor for a bit until things calmed down and could see something other than blinky-lights. Got a couple stretches in, then dragged myself to the medicine cabinet.

Since there's a lot of keyboard work to be done, am managing by keeping the back stock straight (Thank heavens for old-fashioned hard-backed chairs! Thank heavens for ground score!) and propping myself up on a number of overstuffed cushions. Will be sleeping on the floor tonight, I think.

***

Though I've been therapized out the wazoo, still am a bit slow when it comes to recognizing the triggers. Two such spasms so close after the gut problems that almost caused me to hit the emergency room can really only mean one thing: my brain's eating me alive. Granted, I have a whole hell of a lot to be stressed out over. Still, I'm more good to me alive than dead or seriously debilitated. Really need to stop this.

Weird Use of Race.

Interesting juxtaposition of race and class among leftists in power. Bless Althouse for Having Done Due Diligence Here. (Thank you!)

Tonight, We Are All Pyongyang.

Girl Cat had yet another appointment with the Loverly Man in the White Jacket today.
Was put under to have the teeth and gums looked at and taken care of. Cost a fortune, of course, and she's in a bit of pain, due to sutures. Apparently has the same genetic problem as Tony (re absorbtive lesions?) so we have to keep an eye out, of course.

Am so happy to have here home, recovering. Was scared to lose her.

***
Never meant to Fall In Love like this.

Well, I'll be darned.

I've been voting against both incumbents since I was old enough to vote. Finally, it's meant something.

Thank you, Mr. Brown! Thank you!

Trapped.

Flight's already delayed for three hours - will be delayed for an undetermined further length, according to the folks in charge of taking care of us / penning us in at CDG. As much as I'm feeling sorry for myself, I feel worse for them. No breaks, constant individual searches and patdowns if we go to the toilet or to get a coffee...dealing calmly with our frustrations.

Maybe I'll get home tonight; we'll see.

Just Got Word.

Kidneys shut down, unconscious. It's a matter of hours now. There's no way for me to get back in time for this. Am actually pretty relieved (God strike me down). Will have to go back to sift through stuff, though, but that's not immediate.

God protect her and keep her. I never hated her, though I'm still terribly afraid of her. I wish her the peace she probably never had in this life.

Must've been that speech about 'visualizing whirled peas' at the UN the other week that tipped the scales. That's classic Scandinavian fare. They must've been voting on an empty stomach.

Related: Althouse has a riddle. Also wonders if the Dalai Lama's thinking kind thoughts right now.

***

*(Guess it was. Snort.)

I don't deny being a klutz. Honestly, am surprised I've managed to survive this long.

Girl cat is very sick. Through some (in my opinion, extreme) heroics, she's been given another few months. This comes with a price, though: four different medications administered first three times, then twice daily. Girl cat does not like me much. She dislikes me even more when I'm trying to administer pills. She is very stubborn as well, often holding the pills in her mouth and pretending to swallow as many times as she thinks necessary to convince me to let her go. When free, she scuttles across the room and, looking at me all the while, spits the medicine out.

Since she's a serious fighter, I'm scared to death of either breaking her jaw or her neck during these wrestling matches. However, she's no compunction against biting me or scratching me up (even under a towel). I feel seriously out manned here. My hands are poked full of holes where the claws have dug in.

***

A dead French guy once said that, to better understand human nature in action, all one had to do was to observe a couple cats under close quarters. I agree, and will even go so far as to say that one can experience a lot with just one cat under close enough quarters. My struggles with girl cat are, in essence, the distillation of most of my interpersonal relations.

Who the heck does she think she is?

We're not here to validate her. She should have thought of that before she decided to let her husband run for president instead of her doing it herself. (In any event, the American people aren't here to validate the president, it's the other way around. At least it was before the last generation.)

Marianne and Islamo-Leftism

(The director of Marianne.fr on an article on their website which makes the claim that a.) Amahnedajad actually one the election b.) that Ahmanedajad is actually a "popular" leader c.) that the Libe and another publication, le Croix are Imperialist tools for reporting otherwise.)

Am not a fan of Marianne at all (even less so their website), but is good to see their director taking responsibility like this for some really awful, inflammatory and untrue stuff. Wish we could see more of that here.

One of the only days I can sleep in past about 6 ish, I got to until 7. That's when Building and Grounds started working over the hospital's trees and shrubs.

Oh well. At least I don't have to be anywhere today. (Am wiped out).

Sacre Floof!

Looks like we've got a yew ful of house sparrow fledglings, complete with downy chests, pink beaks, and insatiable appetites. Wow.

Sparks and loud pops on the train are fine if they stay outside the passenger area. Kind of neat, actually. Add a bit of piquancy to the commute.

Much less dangerous, too, than silly women who wear stilettos without knowing how to walk in them. The girl next to me (She was wearing nice flips that showed off a new pedicure. Made me glad I've not broken out my sandals yet. My feet need lots of work before they can be exposed.) was stepped on by a woman who lost her balance getting up for the next stop while the train was still moving. What a scream. What a scene. Poor thing.

Every Night It's the Same.



The orange one wants the girl cat's food, the holstein-looking one wants to pee on stuff. Both want the girl cat as their girlfriend. She's old, though. Old enough to be their mom. She hates them.

Still, they sit here night after night, undressing her with their eyes.

Unnerving.