Sometimes, it IS all about the bike (sorry Lance)

Quote du jour: The bicycle is just as good company as most husbands and, when it gets old and shabby, a woman can dispose of it and get a new one without shocking the entire community.
- Ann Strong, Minneapolis Tribune, 1895

I love my road bike. We're getting married next week.

Okay. That might be a slight exaggeration. We're just good friends.

I went for a bike ride, and it was great. In fact, it was a marvelous, quick, fun, kick ass bike ride. Without even thinking about it, I found myself actually zipping along at a decent rate of speed, and it felt good.

I'd had the idea in the back of my mind -- that dark and dusky area where the lazy, unexamined ideas hang out -- that my ponderous, plodding pace on the other bike was due to my body being so out of shape. Now, I'm rethinking that notion. This bike ride was fun again, like it used to be. I feel reborn, or at least a lot younger.

One reason I fell in love with cycling was how much faster I became. I've never been a swift runner. Hell, I even walk slow. But put me on a bicycle and I can pass the fastest runner. (Um... unless there's a steep uphill involved. Let's overlook little technical details like that.)

The next step is to take my heavy duty commute bike in to my local LBS and let them see if they can figure out the problem. I've been riding that bike for almost 10 years now. Maybe something is wrong with its innards. It hasn't had a tune up in a couple years. Probably something is screwed up.

See how thick those tires are? I have never gotten a flat tire riding this bike. (Flat knees, yes, but those tires are tough.)

Much as I love my road bike, it's one drawback is the dainty little Italian tires. Reminds me of the story about the Princess and the Pea: these tires are so sensitive that I feel every bump. I don't like exposing these thin tires to all the glass, gravel, and general detritus on the commute route. Binchy is better suited to a long ride out in the country... once summer comes again...

No, that's not me. But that's what I think riding should be like. Photo courtesy of JuanLuisFlicker.

Site du jour: Fat Cyclist has thoughtfully provided a guide to help the cyclist understand motorists' signals and hand gestures.

Exercise du jour: Cycle 10 miles.

Life's a bitch, but motivation is a bastard

Quote du jour: People often say that motivation doesn't last. Well, neither does bathing. That's why we recommend it daily. -- Zig Ziglar

Can't I just lay me down to sleep and stop with the exercising already?

Okay, I'll confess. I did it! I murdered Colonel Mustard in the Conservatory with the wrench! Motivation has been rather thin around Chez Merry of late. It's about the only thing that could be described as thin.
But why bother trying?
What's the point?
What do you mean, 'depressed'?

Since I moved up to the frozen wilds of Oregon, I can generally count on February being pretty damn depressing, as months go. Now that March has started to Ide its way onto the stage, I'm beginning to think that maybe... just maybe... that "spring" thing they keep talking about might be willing to consider making an appearance. And in spring a young at heart, though not so much in the knees woman's thoughts turn toward exercise.

Any day now, I'm going to get my motivation back.

Last time I checked, it was standing by the side of the freeway, holding a sign that read "Maui or Wherever." (My motivation isn't proud. It just wants out of here. Did it think to invite me along? Of course not. Selfish, that's the only way to describe this sort of behavior.)

Still, when spring rolls around... my motivation is apt to slink in the back door, avoiding my eye and making small talk about how bad the roads have been and how hitching a lift isn't as easy as it used to be in the old days.

It's inevitable. Soon as the daffodils start blooming and the allergies start sneezing, Mr. Motivation shows up expecting me to take up the pursuit of exercise with him as if nothing had ever happened. The bastard. One of these days, I'm just going to change the locks.

Site du jour: "Italian Catholics Picket Parade, Jealous of Irish Catholic History of Oppression"

Exercise du jour: Look, don't expect great things. Me and Mr. M. are barely on speaking terms. Expect 20 minutes on the Elliptical. Maybe a couple miles walking. That's about it.

Done! Hey, some days (like this one), 20 minutes exercise is a friggin' miracle. I seem to recall reading that the ancients considered March to be the beginning of the new year. Maybe my body is simply responding to the rhythms of my Celtic ancestors. Hell, it's as good an excuse as any. For today, this was a victory.

Chocolate & Vicodin: da winner!

Amazing.

I would've sworn that Mr. Random Generator always picked somebody in the middle. This time, just to prove me wrong, he went for someone on the outer edges of the curve.



Yes, One Crazy Penguin has won a free copy of Chocolate & Vicodin to take home and peruse!

I wish I could've given a copy to everyone. It really is the sort of book you don't encounter every day.

Lent, Chocolate & Vicodin

,
see more Very Demotivational

Nag du jour: Last chance to enter the giveaway for Jennette Fulda's memoir: Chocolate & Vicodin.

Exercise du jour: Since I'm now (hopefully) past the worst of the work-pressure, at least for the next week or two, it's back to finding some form of exercise. Today, I'm going to take it easy and aim for walking. Surely, anyone can do that. Probably.
Done! Well, a coupla miles. In my current depressed decrepit condition, that's something.

Chocolate & Vicodin: review & giveaway!

From the perspective of a weight loss blogger...

Jennette Fulda had it all. She lost over half her body weight (186 damn pounds), wrote a terrific memoir about the experience (Half-Assed), quit her frustrating office job and started her own successful web-design business (Make My Blog Pretty). If she weren’t such a nice person, it would be really easy to think petty, jealous, resentful thoughts hate her guts. Sounds like a great life.

Except…

On February 17, 2008, Jennette got a headache. She still has it today, over three years later. Three years… 1095 days… 65700 minutes… one headache. Can’t imagine what that would feel like? You're in luck; you don’t have to. She wrote a book, Chocolate & Vicodin, describing with the frustration and triumph that comes with learning to deal with chronic pain.


Play your cards right... and read a little further... you might get a free copy of the book.

I managed to lure Jennette Fulda over to my blog to answer some questions about Chocolate & Vicodin, among other things.

Merry: So tell me, Janet — may I call you Janet? — what could cause someone to have a headache that goes on for years? Are there any ‘usual suspects’ for a problem like that?

Jennette: Well, Marie, the International Headache Society has 14 classifications for headaches. The type of headache I have is usually labeled Chronic Daily Headache or New Persistent Daily Headache. Those headaches are both primary headaches, meaning the headache is the problem itself as opposed to secondary headaches which are a symptom of something else like the flu or neck trauma. They don't really know what causes these types of headaches. Several classes of drugs are used to prevent and/or alleviate the pain, including antidepressants, anticonvulsants, beta blockers, triptans and others.

Merry: Jeannie, how did you cope with pain that doesn’t let up? How has it changed you?

Jennette: Good question, Miriam. In the literal sense, chronic pain has changed my brain due to a fancy, scientific term called neuroplasticity. The longer you're in pain, the better your body gets at being in pain. It essentially learns how to be in pain, so it becomes harder to cure. Chronic pain can also make your brain shrink over the course of many years, and it can cause cognitive problems. Other than that, I'm great!

As for coping, distraction is always a good one. Have you ever been driving in a car and suddenly realized you've been listening to a crappy song on the radio for several minutes? You didn't notice because you weren't paying attention. In the same way, I can sometimes distract myself from the pain by doing tasks that require concentration, like writing. I also use ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.

Merry: I was wondering, Jan. You have the perfect opportunity to say "not tonight, I have a headache." Instead, you found ways to have a life despite pain. But woman, you've had this headache for years! Why didn't you just give up and say @!#%?

Jennette: Well, May, I did go through a period of depression after the first eight months of the headache. I had to leave work to cry in my car in the parking garage, and I was vaguely considering suicide sometime in the distant future. Thankfully, I got help and I kept going to doctors to try new things. We've been able to bring down my pain so it's tolerable. I still can't do as much as I want to, but I'm doing much better than I was three years ago.

Merry: In Chocolate & Vicodin, I was surprised that so many people had trouble with your name. I mean, Jennette basically consists of four letters. Is it the way you repeat some of the letters that confuses people? Ever thought of cutting a few of those extra letters out?

Jennette: My parents gave all three of their kids names that could be shortened to nicknames. Thomas is Tom, James is Jim, and originally Jennette was Jenny. They changed the traditional spelling from "Jeanette" to "Jennette" so the nickname would make sense. Unfortunately, the most popular girl's name the year I was born was Jennifer. So there was always another Jenny in class, which made me feel less then special. I changed it to Jennette one year when we moved. It used to annoy me that people couldn't spell my name, but now I don't really care if they misspell it unless it's on something important or official, like the cover of my book.

Merry: Jennette, I've been treating the subject lightly, making fun of all the ways people mess up your name, but like a lot of other people out there I don't really know the best way to act with someone who has a chronic illness. I want to show support, but I worry about saying the wrong thing and putting my foot in my mouth. What would you suggest?

Jennette: The biggest mistake people make is that they try to cure me. I don't expect you to fix me. I think people give advice compulsively, even when asked not to, because they hate to see someone suffer. Their advice comes from good intentions, but I'd much rather you empathize with me and validate my feelings than try to cure me. A cure probably won't work, but telling me you admire how I'm handling my illness or asking me if there's anything you can do to help will definitely make me feel batter.

I also don't like it when someone tells me they hope my pain goes away (which I know sounds really, really weird). The sentiment is well-intentioned, but the sad fact is that most chronic pain patients never find a cure. Telling them you hope they’ll be cured is like telling an amputee that you hope their leg grows back. That would be fantastic, but it’s probably not going to happen. Telling me you hope I’m cured only reminds me of the fact that I most likely never will be. Instead, wish me better health in general or tell me you hope I’ll have a low pain day.

Merry: One last question. If a magical wish-granting fairy appeared before you and offered to make your headache disappear forever, but only if you went back to your highest weight, would you take the deal?

Jennette: I really don't know. Let's be glad this fairy doesn't exist and I don't have to make this decision. I feel like I've kind of reached a mid-point between those two options anyway. I've regained about 50 pounds or so, but my headache pain is lower. I don't have the energy to exercise and cook as well as I used to, but it's not so bad that I'm housebound or on my way to other obesity-related illnesses.

I might just take the fairy in a choke hold and demand that she give me both things before I turned her into fairy dust.

Merry: Sounds reasonable; silly offer for a fairy to make, really. Thanks for stopping by!

[Okay, she's gone. Now I'll dish about what I really think about this book.]

Things I liked about Chocolate & Vicodin:

• The intelligence : Jennette has a way of writing about her struggle that cuts through confusions/confuddlements/tangents and addresses the problem directly. I found that refreshing.
• The humor: I’ve peeked at other reviews, and that was one thing every single reviewer picked up on. The topic sounds depressing, but Chocolate & Vicodin has a surprising amount of humor.
• The suspense: I got hooked on trying to find the solution. Throughout the book, people shower deluge drown Jennette with suggestions as she tries a lot of remedies.
  

Things I didn't like about it:

• In this book, there is a complete absence of car chases, catchy musical dance interludes, or death-defying duels between highly skilled ninja warriors.
• Rather than battle dragons, orcs, or very short boy wizards who have a scar on the forehead, Jennette deals with bureaucracy, insurance forms, and doctors. Me, I'd rather battle the dragons.
  
• Damn it all, there aren't even any sparkly vampires! (Wait — that was supposed to go in the Things I Liked list.)
• In other words: it's a memoir, not a novel. No glib, easy answers.

I recommend reading Chocolate & Vicodin. We all have to deal with pain. Everyone develops different strategies to cope. Jennette Fulda came up with some thought-provoking ways to deal with her headache.


Disclaimer: I was given a copy of this memoir to review.
Datclaimer: You too could be given a copy of this memoir! Read on.


Giveaway Note: Leave a comment, and if Mr. Random Generator picks your comment, Jennette will send a copy of Chocolate & Vicodin to the USian address of your choice. A free book! Just from leaving a comment! Only in America.

Giveaway deadline: Leave a comment by Tuesday, March 15th at 8:37 pm Oregon time.

P.S. If you have questions for Jennette, please include them in your comment as well. Maybe we can lure her back to answer them!


This contest is now closed

I think, therefore I yam?

Quote du jour: Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. - Melody Beattie

Just Do It.

This is a slogan that does not apply when you are faced with a banquet.

Just say No Thank You... I've had enough...

I find that if I don't concentrate on eating right, I gain weight. If I think before I eat, I do much better.

I find that if I concentrate on exercising, I don't exercise. If I don't think before I work out, I do much better.


Does that make any kind of sense to anyone else? I can overthink things, especially exercise. I rarely overthink whether I really need more dinner. If I notice myself indulging in food-in-mouth disorder, it's easy to recognize that I'm just acting out of habit, i.e. without thinking.

In summary: habits are the enemy of thinking. When it comes to exercising, I want to create and encourage the habit. When it comes to overeating, I want to thwart and stomp on the habit.

Hmmn. Not sure if I've got something profound here or if it's just one of those pseudo-insights you get when you're short on sleep.

Exercise du jour: Yes, damn it, I am going to cycle to work. No early meetings, no excuses. It shall be done. I Have Spoken.

p.s. When I write "Yam," I do not mean a vegetable that has been smothered in sugar and marshmallows. I mean something that you slice thin and roast with potatoes and onions and maybe some balsamic vinegar.

Chinese banquet courtesy of Cara Chow.

Thoughts on the New Zealand quake

Site du jour: Gotta love the New Zealanders' sense of humor. I present to you a home for sale, with free rocks thrown in landscape rocks for sale in Christchurch. (I loved the comments that went with this listing.)

Yes! This boulder could be yours! Will brighten up any living room!

Plus, courtesy of the awesomely named The Art of Not Working, a Facebook list:

You know you're in Christchurch when:
1.You use the term "liquefaction" and "seismic design" in casual conversation.
2.Digging a hole and pooping in your garden is no longer weird.
3. Your mayor describes the city as munted. If he means FUBARed, you agree
4.Weaving through car size potholes on the street is no longer weird
5.Going to Wellington to escape earthquakes makes sense
6.A shower is heaven
7.You have a preference of which kind of silt you'd rather shovel, dry or wet
8.You see tanks driving around town
9.You are always noting what you are standing under
10.Due to frequent aftershocks during the night, you sleep like a baby--every 10 minutes you wake up and sh*t yourself.

And finally, from The Amazing Adventures of Diet Girl, comes word of a Virtual 5k, Run for Christchurch, on the weekend of March 12-13. The idea is not only to send money to the Red Cross to help New Zealand quake victims, but also to show support for the Kiwis.

p.s. Thanks to Mary Anne in Kentucky, I include Rebuilding Christchurch: one sandcastle at a time.

For me, today, the plan is to ride the bike. Now. I'll plan on the 5k next week. Want to join me?

Fail. Wait -- don't give up on me! I'll explain.

Look, I'm still on for the 5k next weekend. In fact, I'm planning to cycle tomorrow. The problem with today was that I'd forgotten there was an early morning meeting that I had to show up for. No, really, I had to. I was all dressed up and ready to cycle when I remembered, and if it hadn't been for that pesky meeting, I would have ridden in. Sigh. It was a beautifully warm day for cycling, too. A day like this almost makes me believe in the possibility of Spring. Watch tomorrow be rotten weather.

February, you've outstayed your welcome

I am bored with winter.
And with trying to exercise in winter.
And with whining about trying to exercise in winter.

But wait! I know how to cheer myself up -- I'll write something brilliant and funny and heart-warming and endearing and totally, like, interesting and all that stuff! I am creative! I can write anything!

Um... no. Not today. Thus the urge toward self-expression is thwarted and diverted into the default behavior of searching on Google to see if someone else has something interesting to say.



I thought there might be some good sites out there on How To Make Exercising Interesting Even If It Is February, but they all involve me doing something that resembles hard work. So I found some other sites instead.

Equine Insanity wrote a good post about fear and animals.

The Ironic Catholic noted that a worldwide chocolate shortage brings people closer to God.



My new love Chart Porn posted a graph that charts women's earnings against men's earnings in the same field. Useful tip: don't go into banking if you're female.



An old post from An American Girl in Singapore led me to a fascinating study. You know how people of European ancestry used to complain that all Asians look alike? Turns out from the Asian perspective all Europeans look alike too. Caucasians and Asians don't examine faces in the same way.


A humorous site, stolen leveraged from PastaQueen, is the Malcolm Gladwell Book Generator. Create a best-seller, just by clicking!



And a video: Don't you ever interrupt me while I'm reading a book! (Stolen shamelessly from Librarians are weird.)


Photos of a hibiscus and condo on Maui, plus a random beach on Molokai. Sigh.

Snow, Chocolate & Vicodin

Got out of bed, opened the curtains, and what to my wondering eyes did appear?


All the branches are loaded with snow.




















Everywhere you look...

Ha. That's one way to make sure I get white camellias!











Giveaway du jour: Want to win an iPod shuffle or gift cards? It's easy. Link to Jennette Fulda's new book, and you'll be entering into a drawing.

Actually, I was going to link to her site anyway, because I loved the book trailer she created to go with the release of her memoir: Chocolate & Vicodin.

I can't imagine having to deal with a headache that doesn't go away -- for years. It's all the more impressive that the book trailer is funny.
Warning: contains bears.



Exercise du jour: Walking. Slowly.
Done! And not all that slowly, actually. Turns out that a mad, frantic rush for the Max train is good exercise. Thankfully today wasn't icy. I need to do more exercise that will push the boundaries. Maybe I should run for the Max more often.

Naughty Camellias, or Pink is the new White

Last September... loads of potential blooms there...

Quote du jour: Half the interest of a garden is the constant exercise of the imagination.
- Mrs. C.W. Earle, Pot-Pourri from a Surrey Garden, 1897

In today's news, I’m mad at Home Depot. (Yes, that is news. Usually I’m mad at Lowe’s.)

Last fall I planted seven, count ‘em seven Camellia trees (C. japonica). Only one of which bothered to put forth a few blooms last month. According to the label, it was supposed to bloom in the fall. Which, last I checked, ain't January.

Oh, I suppose I'll bloom a bit...

The others were “supposed” to bloom in early winter. Considering winter is two-thirds of the way along (at least if you believe the calendar), I’d say they’re confused. They’re not the only ones.

I planted these trees according to a plan, damn it. I was going to be this fancy dancy landscapey person, so I alternated the colors carefully: red, pink, white, red… all the way down the row.

I even left the labels on the plants, so I’d remember which one was which. (Yes, I could’ve written that info down, but then I’d lose the piece of paper.)

Here’s a picture of one of the camellias, which is thinking about considering the faint possibility of maybe, just possibly, starting to bloom a bit.

To bloom or not to bloom... decisions, decisions...

What color does that bud look to you? To me, it looks dark pink or maybe red.
Here’s the label came with the camellia tree. It's still attached; I never took it off.

White? It's not even remotely Caucasian...

Either the camellia is suffering from an identity crisis, or Home Depot has an issue with truthiness.

So yesterday, I blew money on a camellia that was already in bloom. I like the looks of these flowers, the color and the form. Plus, the label matched the blooms that were actually on the plant.

Not ashamed to be labeled a pinko

I like that I know what the heck I'm planting ahead of time, which makes me feel a bit more in control of the landscaping. The only drawback is the name of the variety.

Is it just me, or does that sound like the name for a naughty type of massage implement?

I realize that this camellia is also pink, not white, but a) I liked the particular color of pink b) I like the form and c) I couldn't find any bloomin' white camellias. (Sorry, guv. Slipped into Cockney dialect for a sec.) Besides, this one was intentionally pink. Plus, I bought it at a store that was not Home Depot. And I got to include a bit of spring color in the grey despair of Cubicle World.

Bloomin' camellia with a cuppa tea

Exercise du jour: Look, all I'm going to commit to is 20 minutes on the elliptical first thing in the a.m. before doing anything else besides getting out of bed and opening my eyes. After that, everything is negotiable.
Done! Plus, 3 miles walking. Plus, I didn't annihilate a single cow-orker today. That definitely calls for a star!



Quote courtesy of QuoteGarden.

Back to work, back to exercise... yeah, I'm enthused...

If you want to 'get in touch with your feelings,' fine — talk to yourself; we all do. But, if you want to communicate with another thinking human being, get in touch with your thoughts. Put them in order; give them a purpose; use them to persuade, to instruct, to discover, to seduce. The secret way to do this is to write it down and then cut out the confusing parts.

- William Safire

Site du jour: I loved this news story: Philly homeowner forecloses on Wells Fargo.

Weird du jour: I don't know if you've ever read Young House Love, a blog written by a young couple who love buying older houses and renovating them. They posted about a note that the previous owner had left hidden in their house when they bought it.

It reminded me of another note, left beneath a pond in case the pond was ever dug up, which I thought was funny, albeit in a very dry and sarcastic way: "One of the more bizarre reasons could be that the removal of the pond was the direct result of a bite on the ankle from a Wildebeest, but I shall not speculate."

Whether the note was funny or just strange, what amazed me was the number of people who commented on it. The thread denigrated into a series of insults on the subject of Obsessive Parenting, Obsessive Note-leaving, and Obsessive Crank-commenting. Damn, but people take life on the internet seriously.

Exercise du jour: Usually, I know ahead of time what exercise I'm going to try for. Today, it depends on whether the weather listens to the weather man (i.e. nasty, in which case I walk) or good enough (in which case, I wanna bike). It was over 50 degrees on Monday, sunny and spring-like. Hard to believe that it's going to be snowing in another day or so.
FAIL. Didn't exercise morning, noon, or night. I decided to oversleep through the morning exercise, work through the lunch-time hail, and have a headache in the evening. I suspect the first two influenced the third.

Get up and go... while you can

Quote du jour: We should consider every day lost in which we do not Dance at least once.
- Nietzsche

Hugh photos du jour: A whole page of photos of Hugh running on the beach. Some day, summer will come again. Maybe.

Let's see. I can get up, go out into the cold and the dark, and pedal to work.
Or, I can go back to bed, where it's warm and comfy, and dream about running away to a tropical island.

Motivation du jour: Woman Dies in her Cubicle. No One Notices.

Ever feel like no one notices all the effort you put into your job?

Well, hopefully they at least notice you’re alive and breathing. If not, you could find yourself in the same situation as Rebecca Wells, a 51-year-old woman who died in her cubicle Friday in Los Angeles County.

Though she died on Friday, she was unnoticed at her desk in the Department of Internal Services until Saturday. The county coroner is yet to determine the cause of death.

When she passed away, Wells, who worked in risk management, was performing an audit. Despite not noticing the deceased, one of her coworkers remembered, “She was always working, always working.” Maybe, after this event, her coworkers will check on one another more often.

I swear, that makes me want to get up and work out. I can't (yet) rearrange my life so that I no longer have to sit in a cubicle for ten hours a day, but I can make sure to include time in my day for doing something besides sitting.

Exercise du jour: Cycling! I'm going for it!
Done! Well, as much as I could do. I am soaked to the skin, cold, and a bit grumpy. It's not that I think the Fates are conspiring against me, but -- oh, who am I kidding. All day, no rain. When did it start raining? A couple minutes before I started my ride. I hadn't gone two miles before I was soaked to the skin. As soon as I got home? Yep, that's when it stopped pouring. It's going to be warm and sunny all weekend. Until I head back to work. Then, they're thinking snow.
Coincidence? Ha!

She who hesitates doesn't ride her bike to work

Quote du jour: Home is whatever you can rebel against.
- Pico Iyer

You (i.e. I) gotta get up earlier and leave earlier for work if I want to leave the house pedaling.
It's not stormy out right now. It's not even snowing... at least, not on the route I take.
So what's keeping me here? Besides my natural inclination to stay where it's warm rather than face the cruel, cruel world out there.
Sorry, can't talk now. Gotta go.

Exercise du jour: Cycling to work. 16 miles.
FAIL. Well, I didn't do the full 16. On the other hand, I did haul myself out the door and on the bike. It's not my fault that as I'm pedaling along, the rain changed to thick, heavy snowflakes. All of a sudden it felt like I was cycling along in a snowglobe that someone had shaken up. Kinda hard to see where I was going. The evening ride didn't have the predicted thunderstorm, but on the other hand it did have lots of black ice, which I don't like much either.
Maybe I'll give myself a star for trying even though all the Fates conspired against me. I did get some miles of cycling in, though not as many as I'd wanted.
There! Take that, Fate!

Love and other vices

Quote du jour: Age does not protect you from love. But love, to some extent, protects you from age. - Anais Nin


Site du jour: In honor of V-day, I thought I'd throw out this site, where the romance publisher Harlequin describes why they decided to patent the kiss.

This invention, The Essential Romantic Kiss ("The Kiss"), involves a method by which two people can reciprocate their romantic feelings towards one another in a manner that deepens attachment, provides pleasure and promotes physical and emotional well‐being. Further, this method improves with repetition, can be performed at virtually any time and, if registered by the US Patent Office, will be freely available to all persons everywhere in the interests of enhancing romantic love and generally making the world a better place.

In case you think I'm kidding, here's the seven page kiss patent.

And, in other news, there's an anti-Valentine's day movement in Malaysia. "Deputy Prime Minister Muhyiddin Yassin said Monday's celebration of romantic love was "not suitable" for Muslims." The idea is that Valentine's day encourages vice. I don't get that. Commercializing romance is crass, maybe, but I have trouble associating heart-shaped chocolates with vice.

Hmmmn... well, okay, I guess I could think up a few associations...

Shout out du jour: Have to say, I love Xenia's Valentine's Day card. I am envious.

Exercise du jour: Really, considering the day, I should be indulging in some patented kind of vice-encouraging exercise. But I refuse to post that as a goal here. It's not That Kind of Blog. Instead, I'll settle for posting the goal of bicycling. Is there such a thing as bicycle vice? Hmmmn.... maybe I'd rather not know. Forget I asked that question. Nevermind. I really don't want to know.

FAIL. I am a failure. Or at least I feel like one. It was a dark and stormy day, with lots of rain falling vertically and wind blowing horizontally, so I guess I can give myself a pass on the bike ride. But in the evening -- of course! -- another computer crisis from a long-distance relative. Moral: exercise first thing on the elliptical. Evenings are not safe. [In this case, literally. Another cyclist was killed riding in that storm, even though he was wearing lights and was off to the side. A car, driven too fast for the conditions, "didn't see him" in an intersection.]

Rodin's unpatented version of The Kiss courtesy of Ulleskelf.

Me & Alfred Hitchcock

Yes, it's a photo I used once before. But it's cold outside, and this photo is hot.

Number of migraines: 1
Number of days entertaining said headache: 4
Minutes of exercising accomplished: 20 (on Tuesday)

Le sigh. At least I made it to Friday. Why does a headache leave you feeling wiped out? I mean, it's not as if I were working out or anything. Unfair, I call it.

Site du jour: Celebrities riding a bicycle. Somehow, I hadn't associated Alfred Hitchcock with bike riding. Sadly, no pictures of Hugh on the site. Yet.

Exercise du jour: Call me optimistic, if you will, but today the aim is to ride the bicycle. If Hitchcock can do it, why not me?
Done! Alfred was an inspiration. Or else having the wind at my back made the ride seem easier. 12 miles and all's well.


Photo courtesy of Barbara.Doduk

Love the one you're with. Even if it's a machine.

Okay, some of you need to wash your minds out right now. Sheesh.

Ellie's a very respectable exercising machine

You might have noticed that there has not been a galaxy of sparkling gold stars on the blog lately.

Partly that's because I'm being picky. In the old days (i.e. last year), I'd stick up a star if I got any exercise in for the day, even some easy-paced walking. Now, I want to achieve the specific exercise that I posted or it doesn't count. At first, I wasn't sure if this was being persnickety or holding myself to a higher standard. Maybe both.

I think, on reflection, that it's a bad thing. I should post the exercise I do, even if it's not the exercise I want to do. Otherwise, I'm shooting myself in the foot here.

For example: sometimes I won't have time to jog, but I could slip in a quick* 20 minutes on the elliptical. However, since I'd posted that I would jog, it seems 'not good enough' to do what I can and ellipt. So I'll either not post the star up on the blog, since I didn't do the 'right' exercise, or -- wait for it -- I'll end up skipping exercising altogether for that day. The idea in the back of my mind, vague as it is, is something along the lines of "If I can't do the exercise I want, there's no point in doing any at all." Please feel free to point out that idea is pretty damned stupid. I agree. It's just my perfectionist tendency cropping up in a new guise.

Thankfully, I don't usually fall into that trap -- especially now that I've dragged that vague idea out of the back of my mind and subjected it to the unkind light of analysis. I generally do get in a few miles of walking even if I do nothing else. I keep the running (sic) total on the sidebar up to date.

Goal of the week: The computer is turned off at 7:07 pm. No cheating.
Done! Well... it will be in six minutes. I shan't be leaving any comments on any blogs tonight.

Exercise du jour: 8 miles on the bicycle. If I can't do that, I'll at least slip in a couple miles of walking at lunch and 20 minutes ellipticalling when I get home. One way or another, I'm gonna get that star up on this post.
20 minutes on the elliptical. The headache doesn't want to exercise tonight, and I'm humoring him. (No, "the headache" is not a euphemism for a significant other.)

*As opposed to a slow 20 minutes. Time expands or contracts during exercise depending on the excellence of the playlist on the iPod.

Plugging the time sink

Quote du jour: I named my iPhone 'The Titanic.' Now, every time I plug in the phone I see the message 'The Titanic is syncing.' - from Twitter.

Word du jour: Dalliance: Waste of time in frivolous action or in dawdling.

More and more, it seems to me that what's holding me back has changed. I'm no longer facing the challenge of overcoming my Inner Slug so I can get out there and exercise. The I.S. seems to have accepted the fact that most of the time it's going to lose. What I now have to wrestle with is the peril of time sinks.

You know the sort of thing. People* who hang out on Facebook talk about Farmville. Gamers have to deal with World of Warcraft. And there's always online Scrabble games. You just open the computer/phone/iPad up for one minute... and then look up an hour later to realize you've stepped into another time sink. Even something as simple as answering a few emails can cost you more time than you realize.

I've conditioned my mind and my body to accept exercise, but I find that I can get sideswiped by Life coming along and demanding my attention Right Away. If I had been more conscious of the time I frittered away, I could have gotten the exercise in first and not had to postpone it for another day.

Managing time is like managing a budget; it's one of those thing that I always have trouble with. I'm going to try to fix this with going on an Internet diet.

Goal of the week: The computer is going to be turned off promptly at 7:07 pm in the evening, and not turned on again until the following afternoon. Hell, I'm online all day at work; I can answer an emergency email if I have to. But no playtime for Merry. (Wah)

I'm going to try that for one week and see if there are any improvements to the a)weight b)exercising c)house organizing d)life.
Done! Yes, I know it's actually 7:09 but I am out of here!




Exercise du jour: 2 miles jogging. I need to do this earlier rather than later. No putting it off until the evening... 'cause 99% of the time that means 'never.'

Done! Not brilliantly, not briskly, but done. Why do my knees hurt? For that matter, I'm getting a headache. I wish being virtuous was more rewarding.

*i.e. everyone on the planet besides myself, my mother, and one of my brothers.

Photo courtesy of Fotologic.

If it's Friday, that means...

If it's Friday, it's time for Hugh... oh hell, it's ALWAYS time!

Quote du jour: I am of the firm belief that everybody could write books and I never understand why they don't. After all, everyone speaks. Once the grammar has been learnt it is simply talking on paper and in time learning what not to say. - Beryl Bainbridge

Site du jour: This site probably would appeal only to people who like snark or who like writing that pays attention to things like spelling, grammar, and diction ... so you'll understand why I liked it. Reasoning with Vampires. The blogger parses the Twilight books according to the rules of English grammar. Funny.

Exercise du jour: 2 miles jogging at an easy, relaxed pace -- my knees have been bothering me since I got on that dratted bike. I think it must need a tuneup or something like that. I mean the bike needs a tuneup. Unless there are tuneups for knees.

Photo courtesy of cool guyz.

Brainless exercising

see more Lolcats and funny pictures


Wince-inducing quote du jour: Sheridan and Delenn are the 'Arthur and Guinevere' of Babylon 5. - Bruce Boxleitner

[For those who've never watched Babylon 5, Bruce Boxleitner was the actor who played Sheridan, i.e. one of the two romantic leads. I don't think he's read a lot of Arthurian tragedy. ]

Site du jour: Annals of Improbable Research, "research that makes people laugh, then think." If you ever need to know about the aerodynamics of a boomerang, this is the site to visit. Even sometimes has useful stuff, like the notice of the FDA recalling a candy called Toxic Waste. My current favorite is a study on how computers are being used to write novels. No, not by you typing on the keyboard. The computer itself indulges in Brainless Writing.

Exercise du jour: Brainless exercising. Actually I think that might help. I think too much about exercising when I should be out doing the dang stuff. 2 miles around the track.
Done! You would've been proud of me. I looked at my schedule for the day, saw that it was back-to-back meetings all afternoon, and decided to go out running Early. (You know me. I never do anything early.) It was a quick impulse decision; I didn't stop to think it through. I did start to answer Just One More Email, but then I realized that if I sat there for another minute I'd start to dally, which would lead to dilly-dallying, which would lead to 6 p.m. with no exercise done. So I went for it.
p.s. All you people suffering through snow and below-insane temperatures? I'm sorry for you, I really am, but today was absolutely beautiful: bright sunshine, blue skies, and all the trimmings. Crocuses are starting to bloom. I think we're getting all this good weather at your expense. Maybe this would be a good time to visit?
Plus, 4 miles walking.

Back in the saddle again...

Quote du jour: I'm afraid sometimes you'll play lonely games too, games you can't win because you'll play against you. - Dr Seuss

I haven't been on the bicycle in months. It's not as if the roads are icy, so I don't really have a decent excuse. I just didn't feel ready. Have to be organized to commute by bicycle. Have to pack clothes to wear at work, find clothes to wear while cycling, get up early enough so that I can cycle in and still get to work at a reasonable time...

Exercise du jour: Cycle a measly 8 miles. That's not too much to ask. The real challenge is getting the brain and body to grasp the concept of getting up and pedaling away in the dark. Once I get on the bicycle, it's all easy. Well, easier. Here I go.
Done! Well, most of it. 6 miles. But I allowed the star for getting up when it was cold and dark and pedaling toward a distant and coldly beautiful sunrise. Did I mention it was cold? Just checking.*

*I probably shouldn't complain, since it wasn't much below freezing and that's balmy compared to some people's weather. But I bet they didn't forget where they put their gloves.