I am once again within one pound of goal weight, having just come off a fat-infested week where I celebrated two birthdays and gained a pound each for my efforts. I hope to make goal weight next week and then go on maintenance for six weeks and then I will finally post before and after photos of me. Hopefully by then, I’ll have a decent haircut and clothes that do not make me look like a hamper on the The Biggest Loser.
I created a Facebook fan page! All by myself! And I spiraled out of control only twice with delusional episodes where I made a Molotov cocktail out of my computer and launched it into space via a potato canon I stole from the teenage boys next door.
Click the image above and you’ll be brought to my fan page where you have the option to “like” it if you so choose since Facebook no longer has the option to “become a fan.” I guess they figured it was too convoluted a concept for humans to grasp.
Doh! I are smart!
LOOKIT, LOOKIT, LOOKIT! It’s a Nikon D90 a/k/a my new baby and a 70-300mm zoom lens, courtesy of my wonderful Nate on my birthday! The camera strap, from PhatStraps, was my parents’ gift to me, together with two ProMaster UV filters. And in two minutes, my mother is going to call me and ask We got you what? What the hell is a strap for and why is it fat? And pro what? Did you take up golf again?
Thanks, guys! You know, continuing the supersonic descent into my forties isn’t so bad when there’s stuff like this to cushion the fall.
Oliver wriggled out of Zoe’s arms and fell onto our hardwood floors the other day and his yelp made my stomach lurch so badly, I thought it was going to come flying out of my mouth and splash onto the wall. Four months ago, if you had told me that I was capable of getting so emotionally attached to a small fuzzy creature that did not burst forth out of my own womb, I would have laughed in your face and then taken your temperature. Rectally, if you were being really annoying about it.
Although Oliver was able to put weight on his leg after his fall, he was limping pretty badly so I called the vet who advised me to watch him carefully and if he didn’t improve within a couple of hours, to bring him into the emergency office for an x-ray. I hung up the phone and yanked my eyeballs out of their sockets and glued them onto Oliver’s body whereby I proceeded to watch him like a hawk, lest I miss any indication that he needed immediate medical attention. Like, if his leg suddenly fell off in the kitchen or something.
For the next couple of hours, I watched him limp around the living room, limp around the office, limp onto my lap and ultimately limp out the door to go potty whereupon he experienced sudden onset HALLELUJAH! I’M HEALED and starting chasing a leaf around the yard. I decided he didn’t need immediate medical attention after all. Per my vet’s instructions, I’m continuing to watch him carefully and if his leg does, in fact, plummet to the ground independent of his body, I’ll rush him in. In the meantime, his limp is noticeably improved and my heart is back to beating its normal 137 beats per minute instead of 290.
Spring has finally come to upstate New York and with it, birds with irritable bowel syndrome and freakishly accurate aim.