The voices in my head are singing Keep Me in Your Heart by Warren Zevon.
What I'm reading: Your Heart Belongs to Me by Dean Koontz
I came across a quote today that really struck a chord with me:
"If you stuff yourself full of poems, essays, plays, stories, novels, films, comic strips, magazines, music, you automatically explode every morning like Old Faithful. I have never had a dry spell in my life, mainly because I feed myself well, to the point of bursting. I wake up early and hear my morning voices leaping around in my head like jumping beans. I get out of bed to trap them before they escape." Ray Bradbury
I think for too long I've been starving myself, always being afraid to read too much while I was writing. I had the idea it would mess with my voice. Don't get me wrong, I devour fiction. But I've been in the habit of stockpiling books and waiting until I'm in an editing cycle before I read them.
I've officially abandoned that policy, and am going to gorge myself daily with everything imaginable. I'm hoping my morning voices will wake me and haul me out of bed to capture all their insanity. Right now I'm engrossed in Dean Koontz's latest. He's one of my three or four favorite authors of all time. Who are the others? Okay, I have eclectic reading tastes. In no particular order, I also get email alerts from Barnes and Noble when Carl Hiaasen, Sandra Brown, or Michael Connelly has a new book coming out. I also love John D. McDonald's Travis McGee series.
Did I dance today? Well yes, I did. I have several sore muscles for my efforts, although, I have to say, I'm not particularly fond of the set the Queen of Pain is currently using. With one or two exceptions, the songs don't speak to me. This is unusual, as typically I really like her music.
Note: If I were the alien on the stage, I'd pick the songs I liked, not some whiny, VOLUPTUOUS woman who shows up erratically.
But I have discovered that not liking the music is not necessarily a bad thing. When the music moves me, I forget my sore muscles, and what a spectacle I'm likely making of myself, and shake shake shake my...well, you get the idea. This is a much more exhausting workout. When I don't like the music as much, I don't push myself. It's not a conscious decision, it's just the way it works out.
It's actually a good thing that she doesn't have my favorites in. I might hurt myself. I need to work up to the funk.
Peace, out...
Susan
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
So Much is Explained
With all the financial news, folks getting sworn in, and Brittney's latest lyric scandal, y'all might have missed the most important item in the news today.
There is a VIRUS that causes folks to be fat, and it's HIGHLY CONTAGIOUS!! You can catch it from someone in the office, on a plane, or in the mall. If you have cold symptoms, YOU may have this adenovirus. I am not making this up, and I did not hear about it in a forwarded email. It was on the news.
I tried to explain this to Casey (the Queen of Pain) today at Jazzercise, but she would have none of it. My first day back, and she had me doing pushups. I have explained to her on NUMEROUS occasions why it defies the law of gravity for VOLUPTOUS women to do push-ups, but she didn't want to hear about this either.
She may have been distracted by all the excitement at Jazzercise Fitness Center today. January is like Christmas for anyone selling skinny. They have a new program--their version of "The Biggest Loser." There are cash prizes involved, so I'm thinking I might sign up. They were selling this hard today. They also had balloons, drawings for prizes, and--get this--PASTRIES. What is up with that? It's like they were trying to pork us up as big as possible so all the pounds they sweat off us will be more dramatic. These aliens are sneaky. Anyone who doesn't understand that Jazzercise instructors are mostly aliens, please read this.
They were also having one of those of those, "haul your friends in here and blackmail them with whatever you've got on them until they sign up and we'll give you a T-shirt" deals. Hazardously- perky Julie (who owns the place) was behind the desk practically percolating with enthusiasm over all the exciting ways they want to torture us into smaller sizes this year.
I sure hope this cold I'm getting over isn't that fat virus. I could have infected a lot of people today... This could be really bad. All those women in there eating pastries and getting the fat virus... Umm, umm, ummm. They sure are going to be mad if that virus keeps them from getting skinny after all that pain and sweat.
Peace, out...
Susan
There is a VIRUS that causes folks to be fat, and it's HIGHLY CONTAGIOUS!! You can catch it from someone in the office, on a plane, or in the mall. If you have cold symptoms, YOU may have this adenovirus. I am not making this up, and I did not hear about it in a forwarded email. It was on the news.
I tried to explain this to Casey (the Queen of Pain) today at Jazzercise, but she would have none of it. My first day back, and she had me doing pushups. I have explained to her on NUMEROUS occasions why it defies the law of gravity for VOLUPTOUS women to do push-ups, but she didn't want to hear about this either.
She may have been distracted by all the excitement at Jazzercise Fitness Center today. January is like Christmas for anyone selling skinny. They have a new program--their version of "The Biggest Loser." There are cash prizes involved, so I'm thinking I might sign up. They were selling this hard today. They also had balloons, drawings for prizes, and--get this--PASTRIES. What is up with that? It's like they were trying to pork us up as big as possible so all the pounds they sweat off us will be more dramatic. These aliens are sneaky. Anyone who doesn't understand that Jazzercise instructors are mostly aliens, please read this.
They were also having one of those of those, "haul your friends in here and blackmail them with whatever you've got on them until they sign up and we'll give you a T-shirt" deals. Hazardously- perky Julie (who owns the place) was behind the desk practically percolating with enthusiasm over all the exciting ways they want to torture us into smaller sizes this year.
I sure hope this cold I'm getting over isn't that fat virus. I could have infected a lot of people today... This could be really bad. All those women in there eating pastries and getting the fat virus... Umm, umm, ummm. They sure are going to be mad if that virus keeps them from getting skinny after all that pain and sweat.
Peace, out...
Susan
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Leading Cause of Brain Crud
The voices in my head are singing Where's the Love Y'all, by the Black Eyed Peas.
What I'm reading: A Deadly Shade of Gold, by John D. MacDonald.
The Queen of Pain accused me this morning of suffering from Brain Crud, in response to my plea for sympathy on account of having the head and chest crud for eight weeks. Now, setting aside her complete and utter lack of sympathy, she has a point. I feel like I need to take one of those things the dentist uses to clean your teeth and scrape off all the nooks and crannies of my gray matter.
At first I thought it was just a holiday, family/mall/carb-overload hangover, but I now suspect it's something far more insidious. I have television poisoning.
I typically don't watch much TV--just a few favorite shows: Boston Legal (which won't be a problem anymore as its last episode aired before Christmas), Monk, The Closer, Saving Grace, and more recently, Leverage, the new Timothy Hutton series. But over the holidays, I fall into bad habits.
It starts with watching a few holiday movies on the Hallmark channel with my mother. Nothing gets you into the holiday spirit quite like heartwarming romantic holiday fluff. Then, there are all those bowl games, and playoff games. Left to my own devices I wouldn't watch much of that, but most of the family-and-friend pool like it, so we watch.
Before long, I have a customary place on the sofa that calls to me as soon as the dinner dishes are in the dishwasher. I start CHANNEL SURFING--looking for something to watch. I become far less discriminating, although, let me say right here that if I ever type the words, "I finally broke down and watched an episode of American Idol," somebody just call up the nervous hospital and have them send a padded wagon.
Disclaimer: I mean no slight, aspersion, or snark to anyone who enjoys "Reality TV." I just personally don't care for it at all. I'm convinced it's a vast Hollywood conspiracy to inflate profits. I like my escapism with a plot...you know, something that involves writers, some reasonably talented actors, and a set. I digress.
It's not the shows that are really the issue, though I typically spend my leisure hours with my first love, books. It's the commercials. Oh. Dear. Tara.
It's so bad, that when a decent commercial comes on, I actually remark on how well it was done. This happens about once a week. The prescription drug ads are awful, but the really, really bad commercials--the ones that cause the maximum buildup of Brain Crud are the ones that include the words, "But WAIT!" You know the ones I'm talking about... the ads for things like Mighty Putty, Hairagami, and those plastic clips you put on your bra straps that guarantee to make you a cup size bigger and improve your posture. I'm also sick of seeing celebrities try to convince us that they lost 40 pounds eating Nutri System, or Jenny Craig food, or by drinking a bunch of Acai Berry Juice. Please, those people have a team of personal trainers and a kitchen staff to help them get skinny.
Now that I've figured out what caused the brain crud, it's easy to fix. It's not difficult AT ALL to turn off the TV once you realize you've fallen victim. If only all my unhealthy habits were cured as easy as picking up a remote and pressing "Off."
Peace, out...
Susan
What I'm reading: A Deadly Shade of Gold, by John D. MacDonald.
The Queen of Pain accused me this morning of suffering from Brain Crud, in response to my plea for sympathy on account of having the head and chest crud for eight weeks. Now, setting aside her complete and utter lack of sympathy, she has a point. I feel like I need to take one of those things the dentist uses to clean your teeth and scrape off all the nooks and crannies of my gray matter.
At first I thought it was just a holiday, family/mall/carb-overload hangover, but I now suspect it's something far more insidious. I have television poisoning.
I typically don't watch much TV--just a few favorite shows: Boston Legal (which won't be a problem anymore as its last episode aired before Christmas), Monk, The Closer, Saving Grace, and more recently, Leverage, the new Timothy Hutton series. But over the holidays, I fall into bad habits.
It starts with watching a few holiday movies on the Hallmark channel with my mother. Nothing gets you into the holiday spirit quite like heartwarming romantic holiday fluff. Then, there are all those bowl games, and playoff games. Left to my own devices I wouldn't watch much of that, but most of the family-and-friend pool like it, so we watch.
Before long, I have a customary place on the sofa that calls to me as soon as the dinner dishes are in the dishwasher. I start CHANNEL SURFING--looking for something to watch. I become far less discriminating, although, let me say right here that if I ever type the words, "I finally broke down and watched an episode of American Idol," somebody just call up the nervous hospital and have them send a padded wagon.
Disclaimer: I mean no slight, aspersion, or snark to anyone who enjoys "Reality TV." I just personally don't care for it at all. I'm convinced it's a vast Hollywood conspiracy to inflate profits. I like my escapism with a plot...you know, something that involves writers, some reasonably talented actors, and a set. I digress.
It's not the shows that are really the issue, though I typically spend my leisure hours with my first love, books. It's the commercials. Oh. Dear. Tara.
It's so bad, that when a decent commercial comes on, I actually remark on how well it was done. This happens about once a week. The prescription drug ads are awful, but the really, really bad commercials--the ones that cause the maximum buildup of Brain Crud are the ones that include the words, "But WAIT!" You know the ones I'm talking about... the ads for things like Mighty Putty, Hairagami, and those plastic clips you put on your bra straps that guarantee to make you a cup size bigger and improve your posture. I'm also sick of seeing celebrities try to convince us that they lost 40 pounds eating Nutri System, or Jenny Craig food, or by drinking a bunch of Acai Berry Juice. Please, those people have a team of personal trainers and a kitchen staff to help them get skinny.
Now that I've figured out what caused the brain crud, it's easy to fix. It's not difficult AT ALL to turn off the TV once you realize you've fallen victim. If only all my unhealthy habits were cured as easy as picking up a remote and pressing "Off."
Peace, out...
Susan
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Once More, From the Top
The voices in my head are singing Inside Job by Don Henley.
I'm reading The Overlook by Michael Connelly.
Okay, so it's January, and here's where I typically resolve to try a new diet, and to exercise everyday. As previously mentioned, I've tried them all, most recently South Beach, and I'm here to testify: none of them work. Or they all do if you stick to them, and there's the rub. When it comes to food, I have no self-discipline.
Since Thanksgiving, I've had one long food orgy, and until Monday, not one of the things I've eaten has been healthy. Hard to figure out why I've had a cold since mid-November.
So, here's my new plan: I hereby resolve NEVER to diet again. I will not try the new fad diet, whatever it is, nor retry any of the old ones. I'm setting out on a plan to eat myself healthy (really healthier, as I'm generally in great health except for the extra pounds I'm tired of toting around and the cold, but it sounds more dramatic that way).
I'm going to eat my veggies. I'm going to do the thing they've been pounding into my brain since birth and eat mostly fruits and vegetables, with moderate amounts of lean protein, dairy, and whole grains. I'm not counting anything or measuring anything, and I'll eat what I want when I want it. I hereby grant myself permission to have a cheeseburger whenever I want one.
This, I think, is the key. I suspect the biggest reason I can't stick to a diet is I despise ceding control to someone else. I hate studying books and websites to figure out what I can and can't have, then trying to cook something from the allowed ingredients that tastes good. No more.
Each week, I'll put veggies and fruits on my grocery list, and I'll eat the ones I like best. I'll prepare them the way I think sounds good.
I started Monday. So far so good. I've a had a salad every day for either lunch or dinner. I bet if I did count the calories, I'd be where most diets say I should be. But I refuse to count. The one thing I will measure is myself. I'll step on the scales once a week and not obsess.
This is my New Year's Revolution.
Peace, out...
Susan
P.S. Oh, the exercise thing... I'll be back on the dance floor as soon as all these veggies kick the cold out of my chest. The Queen of Pain is losing patience.
I'm reading The Overlook by Michael Connelly.
Okay, so it's January, and here's where I typically resolve to try a new diet, and to exercise everyday. As previously mentioned, I've tried them all, most recently South Beach, and I'm here to testify: none of them work. Or they all do if you stick to them, and there's the rub. When it comes to food, I have no self-discipline.
Since Thanksgiving, I've had one long food orgy, and until Monday, not one of the things I've eaten has been healthy. Hard to figure out why I've had a cold since mid-November.
So, here's my new plan: I hereby resolve NEVER to diet again. I will not try the new fad diet, whatever it is, nor retry any of the old ones. I'm setting out on a plan to eat myself healthy (really healthier, as I'm generally in great health except for the extra pounds I'm tired of toting around and the cold, but it sounds more dramatic that way).
I'm going to eat my veggies. I'm going to do the thing they've been pounding into my brain since birth and eat mostly fruits and vegetables, with moderate amounts of lean protein, dairy, and whole grains. I'm not counting anything or measuring anything, and I'll eat what I want when I want it. I hereby grant myself permission to have a cheeseburger whenever I want one.
This, I think, is the key. I suspect the biggest reason I can't stick to a diet is I despise ceding control to someone else. I hate studying books and websites to figure out what I can and can't have, then trying to cook something from the allowed ingredients that tastes good. No more.
Each week, I'll put veggies and fruits on my grocery list, and I'll eat the ones I like best. I'll prepare them the way I think sounds good.
I started Monday. So far so good. I've a had a salad every day for either lunch or dinner. I bet if I did count the calories, I'd be where most diets say I should be. But I refuse to count. The one thing I will measure is myself. I'll step on the scales once a week and not obsess.
This is my New Year's Revolution.
Peace, out...
Susan
P.S. Oh, the exercise thing... I'll be back on the dance floor as soon as all these veggies kick the cold out of my chest. The Queen of Pain is losing patience.
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