Living Dangerously

Do you ever eat a crumb of something without being entirely sure what it is first?

Not Thin

The issue is not that I'm fat. No, there are no self-hating thoughts going on here, no "agh, I look so UGLY and soooooo FAT" vain nonsense. I've never either wanted nor particularly tried to look like a twiggy supermodel, so I'm perfectly satisfied with my appearance as not in keeping with that so-called ideal. I have, however, considered for a while (since freshman year of college, wouldn't you know it!) that I'm not exactly thin. I'm not truly lean and muscular in the way I would like to be, in the way that means not just "I can fit into that dress" but "I can run five miles" or "I can swim 5000 meters" or what have you. It's a kind of thinness that's a secondary effect of physical exertion and a well-maintained eating plan. And the precise reason I do not have this type of physique is, plainly, I'm lazy. I have not bothered to do the planning, scheduling, cooking, and exercising to get to that place. I'm starting to wonder, though, if it might be time for me to grow up, get organized, and get over my psychological aversion to nutritional planning that has developed as a natural defense mechanism to the overly hyped and utterly unmaintainable diet fads that have grown around me as I have grown into an adult woman. It might be time not just to eat whatever I feel like eating, whatever is most convenient, whatever I've happened to buy this time at the grocery store, but actually something thought out and planned ahead of time; to stick with cooking things on my menu plan (well, to MAKE a menu plan to begin with) and not just bail in favor of a Chipotle burrito or tuna sandwich from the Main Street Deli; and most importantly, to get UP in the morning and work out, instead of rolling over and sleeping for another hour! I know I'd feel better, mentally, if I did all these things . . . .

I Hate Being Charged Interest

The most terrifying thing to me, now that I am on my way to conquering my fears of cutting my own hair and scrambling up a 50-foot rock, is having to pay an outrageously high interest payment on one of my credit cards. Yet, to be frank, this reality looms! The answer is clear and sobering: take money out of savings and pay the darn thing off. Argh.

Rope Burn

Yesterday, while climbing, I got rope burn on the base of my right thumb. I must be doing something wrong there. Also, in my climbing partner's (!!) last climb, he was really racing up there, and I was doing my best to take in the slack quickly, but I also wasn't watching so I don't know exactly what happened when he fell. His hand was bloody at the end, so I hope it wasn't my fault for not taking enough slack and he fell farther than he should have. I kind of don't think so, though, because I definitely caught him with my brake hand as soon as he fell. It was just sort of surprising, since I wasn't watching him! He got tired. Anyway, all that to say, belaying is still marginally more nerve-racking to me than climbing. I suck pretty equally at both, but somehow I feel safer on the other end of the rope . . . oh despite the fact I forgot to tighten and double-back my harness for my very first climb! :o sheesh.

The Story of My Lunch

As narrated in a series of IMs to Kathleen:

me: not entirely sure if a ham salad sandwich was a good idea
but it is a yummy idea!
me: My tummy says, "Humm, that was interesting!"
but I will further oppress it by sending vitamins down
hahaha

The End

Also, today I wore my warmest (though also ugliest) boots and my very warm Marmot Intervale Jacket--which I got this summer at the unbelievably good price of $50 on REI--and of COURSE . . . it's sunny and warmish - 68 degrees! Lovely. Warm. I know my strategy from here on out -_-

I Can See My BREATH

What is happening?? Winter, why are you here so soon? Will I never be warm again?