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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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The Demon Who Lives To Eat
Want To See Something Scary? I don't talk a lot about the size I used to be, mostly because...well, I just don't. Mostly, I guess because the me I was in that life was like a dream me. I was trapped in a dream that I couldn't wake up from, couldn't do anything about. And for that reason, it was often nightmarish. My life is a different kind of dream now, one that I don't ever want to wake up from, but which is touched, from time to time, by the other dream. One of those times happened this morning, as I was sorting through some clothing that I want to put into the garage sale that The Demon Who Always Does The Right Thing and The Demon Grrlfriend are having tomorrow. I thought, it'd be good to get some of my old clothes out of the closet and make a few dollars. I came across a pair of my old jeans:
So you want to know something really scary? Those are not the largest size I wore. I actually wore, for a couple of years, jeans that were the next size up from the ones I'm holding up in the picture. (I actually burst the top buttons on several pairs of jeans in that size and tossed all of them out as soon as I could). I remember how happy I was, after several weeks of dieting, to get into the size that I'm holding here. (Incidentally, the shirt I'm wearing is the "Viva La Vida" shirt that I wrote about here. While I was on my way to use the computer to post this entry, I passed by a Native American man and his beautiful companion. I smiled at them both. They smiled back, and the man said, "That's a nice shirt.") Now Talk About The Gym, Sublingua! Okay! Well, rather than talk about it, let me show you one of the results:
And, no. I have so far resisted the temptation to kiss my own bicep, thank you very much. Well, Tell Us About Your Love Of The Marx Brothers I have been feeling rather humorless lately, what with the period and the sickness, so I went and rented a few Marx Brothers films because I love me some Groucho Marx. I love Groucho Marx. I think he was a beautiful, hilarious and, above all, sarcastic genius. Here he is with Chico in Animal Crackers, which should be required viewing for every man, woman, and child in this great nation of ours. (Also, it is one of the few films that Zeppo Marx appeared in with his more famous brothers, and he is a rather divine looking fellow.)
I would have killed to be Margaret Dumont. And What Have You Done Today, Sublingua, Besides Watch Marx Brothers' Films? I have, of course, continued to be The Demon Who Lives To Eat. Though I don't usually cook anything more strenuous than Boca Burgers, I have been cooking up a storm recently. I woke up this morning craving channa masala, but had to make do with a garbanzo bean salad with chopped cucumbers, yellow tomatoes, red onion, carrots, green peppers, garlic, and a red wine vinaigrette. I had the last of some divine raspberries (a much-welcomed gift from Max) with some organic yogurt for breakfast dessert. Just now, for lunch, I had soy chicken and vegetable fajitas (soy chicken, zucchini, mushrooms, onion, garlic, green chile, whole wheat tortillas, salsa) and a big salad (mixed baby greens, yellow tomatoes, celery, red onions, cucumber, green peppers, carrots), a big bowl of cantaloupe and more organic yogurt (lunch dessert!), and cooked pumpkin with maple syrup (lunch dessert, take II!) I was contemplating sushi for dinner... Also, I have shopped and shopped today. I have been needing some new clothes and have been putting it off just to see whether or not the bod is going to settle into a size 8 (where I am now) or move on down into a size 6. Still, I have been making do with the same pair of black capris and too large jeans for a couple of weeks now. I decided that at least some new jeans and underwear were in order. I hit Target while waiting for the mall to open and found some underwear (I'm very cheap and won't pay more than $2.50 for a pair of underwear, and, as I only wear black, cotton, bikini or thong underwear, finding it at this price is a challenge. Well, challenge met, baby. Thanks to Target.) I also bought a cami top with a built-in bra which will allow me to go braless (something I haven't done in public since the third grade). Then I went to the mall (shudder) and hit The Gap (shudder). Their men's jeans were on sale for $19.99, and I almost bought a pair since I wear men's jeans exclusively. However, today I made an exception to that little rule after finding out that the womens' jeans were on sale for $9.99. I took the last two pair of size 8 regular jeans in stonewashed (not as bad--or as '80's--as they sound) classic fit. They fit beautifully. I was so happy with this find that I didn't even flinch at paying $16.50 for a black, long-sleeved t-shirt. (And I was spurred on to make this purchase by the fact that it is hard to find long-sleeved, black summer clothes.) So that's been my day so far. Tonight there is a visit to the gym (I'm feeling well enough to start intensive cardio back up), more Marx Brothers, and perhaps the studio and a divine solo sushi dinner. We shall see. Time For A List? Yeah, baby. I am grateful for the gay boys who work the register at The Gap. I am grateful for Max and his timely gift of beautiful raspberries. I am grateful for Groucho, Chico, Zeppo, Harpo, and Gummo. (I would gladly be the sixth Marx Brother, were such a thing possible.) I am grateful for Fu's face, which continues to be a worry. I am grateful for Henry James novels. I am grateful. I am grateful for Sophistica and x and The Boy and all the boys, for Richard, for the studio, for this time. I am grateful for my life. I am grateful.
More lies:
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