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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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Complete Disappointment
Everyone Is A Complete Disappointment There is one man I'm particularly interested in. He's a transplant to my state, not in my city. We email back and forth a few times. I send him my real email, not the doubleblind email that the dating service uses. I send him my phone number, telling him that I have decided not to continue past my trial membership. I don't hear back from him. The man who claims to be in my city sends me his phone number. It's got an out-of-state-area code. Just visiting? Another man, also a transplant, sends a phone number. I'll call him later this afternoon. A single woman answers from the dozen or so emails I send out to single women who claim to be looking for friends. They're not really looking for friends, I know, but the dating service offers the option of putting yourself online for friends purposes and most of these women have checked that they are actually looking in the men or women category for new friends. The woman who answers sends her phone number. I'll call her later today. A Struggle By Any Other Name... I'm going to the gym now to work out. I have been trying to put on a few pounds, which means eating more and working out less. I'm down to about 153, which seems low. I let myself have a couple of "cheat" days, days where I gave myself permission to eat whatever and whenever I wanted. I found that I could not eat things that I wouldn't normally eat (meat, for example) so I focused on eating more of what I usually eat (yogurt, for example) and things that I usually put the brakes on when I do eat (fruit, for instance, and peanut butter). I eat and eat and eat and get so full that I can't eat anymore and then find that I have to skip a few meals because I am still full hours and hours and hours later. The body doesn't want to eat more. Putting on weight seems suddenly to be a greater struggle than taking it off has been recently. Orange You--? I'm paying for my groceries and the cashier asks, "What were you doing with your hands?" I look down at my own perfectly normal hands. She says, "They're all orange." "Oh, that," I reply. "I get a lot of beta-carotene." I am in a hippie-heavy food co-op which may explain the glee with which she meets this news. My mother has also remarked on my remarkable shade of orange, as has Max. I'm an orange mutant freak with too much beta-carotene in my diet. I vow to lay off the squash, carrots, red cabbage and peppers for a while, until I pale out again.
More lies:
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