Five Stops to the Right

Blogger has this nice little function that allows you to run through a bunch of other blogs, by hitting the little button that says "Next Blog" and moving over to the right. I never fail to turn up interesting tidbits. Like this one.

Quote of the day:

"Anyone using the comment section to promote false doctrine will also be denied commenting rights. Thank you for stopping by."

I can't tell if this woman is for real or not, although I suspect she is. Yep, she is definitely for real.

The Tennis Bracelet or the Guy?

Guest-blogging today is my friend Renee. The last time I saw Renee, she was head-over-heels infatuated with a new fellow. Today, Renee updates us on her life:

"New Fellow" is okay. We're in that awkward phase that happens after you've been dating almost two months in which the man feels compelled to pull away...We'd been doing great, talking or seeing each other pretty much every day, then a week ago he asked me if we were "too emotionally invested in one another" (whatever that means). I was calm, and said I respected his need to 'slow down' and think carefully about next steps etc. Then I went away for a week on business (and for the bridal shower) and didn't call him until the day after I got back. He seemed to really miss me and said "when do I get to see you?" I said we should talk about that. Briefly, I said it was stupid for me to invest any more time or and energy into this relationship if he wasn't sure about me. Then I said, "you know me, you know what I'm about and what I have to offer. If you decide you want to continue to pursue things,you should give me a call. Otherwise, let's just cool it." I also said that if he didn't have the common sense to want to be with me, then he obviously wasn't as smart as I thought he was (I seriously said that! He laughed.) All in all, it was a good conversation and I feel like I wrestled back some of the power that I had lost by him saying he wanted to slow down. That was Saturday. On Monday he called to see if we could go out. I said I was busy everyday during the week, and then he asked if he could pick me up after my salsa dancing class on Thursday night. I agreed. I'm not sure what this means seeing as he didn't profess that he was over this slowing down foolishness, but we'll see. At any rate, whatever happens, I will end up with a committed boyfriend OR a new piece of jewelry, and at this point either is fine with me. Jewelry tends to last longer. (Have I told you I buy myself a new piece of jewelry every time I get dumped???) This whole episode has made me a lot less smitten with him than I was in the beginning. So that's the update.

Health

So last week I went back to Weight Watchers. After a two year hiatus. In 2003, I lost 30 pounds, which was a big deal, because if you take 30 lbs off, people notice. I had an intensely-felt love hate relationship with the the commercialness and gimmickiness of Weight Watchers, (there are some wonderfully funny and biting unwritten blog entries about how little I liked my ww leader at the time) but at the end of the day it was probably the most effective solution for me. Since then, through a combination of exercise spurts, calorie counting, trying to implement reasonable habits where food is concerned, and self-bribery I have kept it except for give or take 5 pounds. My original goal was 140, and and my lowest weight was probably about 137. Last week I weighed in at about 144. So, I don't technically have much to lose, but there has always been this extra five lbs or so that I wanted to get rid of and no amount of portion control, ww online, calorie counting, or jogging, swimming, salsa workout has gotten me there. I am therefore capitulating and going back to the meeting. (Actually I found a better group that I wish I had known about back in 2003.) I am embracing the whole thing: the "weigh in", the little cards with the numbers and the plus and minus signs that the nice ladies write in, the group discussion, stocking my refrigerator with fruits and vegetables, writing down everything I eat and tracking points. (1 pt = 50 calories. Anyone under 150 lbs is only supposed to eat 20 calories a day, which is pretty much impossible, since that is 1000 calories. You get a little overage fund you can dip into if you go over. It works out to 1250 calories per day.) I even bought their fussy little book for keeping track of things. I love it and I know if I do everything that they tell me to, I will lose weight. I am prostrate before the little green and yellow logo and the little pink letters spelling out the words: weight watchers. I am a weight watcher. Not a girl watcher. A weight watcher.

And you can play too!

Goal weight: 135
Weigh in 7/23: 143.8

Also, I would like it to be know that I got up and went jogging this morning. In the humidity that has descended upon Manhattan island. Which buys me three extra points.

Viva Zapatero

One year ago at this time, I was on vacation is Spain, and last night I found myself overwhelmed by my nostalgia for that lovely trip. In the spirit of my trip to Spain, I post a link to a translation of President Zapatero's remarks on the legalization of gay marriage in Spain. Via Gara at Garalog.

I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello

So, at least three times in the last couple weeks, I've launched headlong into a story and the person I was telling said "oh yeah I read about that on your blog," reminding my that although I do not have as many readers as this New York blogger-girl, there are a few folks out there. Mostly it does appear to be my friends, which is gratifying. If there is anyone else out there that wants to say hi, you should. Post a comment. Open a thread.

Tuesday Blues

Really, I had one of the nicest weekends ever in New York this weekend. Brunch plans, dinner plans, invitations to evenings in the park materialized as if on cue. I went to a salsa class and thought it was fantastic. I heard Eddie Palmieri at Celebrate Brooklyn. I spent Sunday at the beach, exposing my fish-belly white stomach to the sun and ended the day drinking vodka tonics and playing cards just like I was on vacation. All that came to an abrupt halt with Monday morning when I realized I had a sunburn and was still nursing a stubborn head cold.

Wilson Calls on Bush to Fire Rove

Amen.

Can we get rid of Karl Rove?

I am simply fascinated by the unfolding Rove/Plame scandal. It's my obsession right now.

Sunday night passive entertainment.

I had given up on Six Feet Under when it ended with what I thought was an ending oworthy of "All My Children" last season, but tonight was really marvelous, with lots of the magic and humor of the first two seasons. Patricia Clarkson has showed up for another guest appearance and she is fabulously over the top as an aging hippie. The daughter, Claire, passed the time at a temp job pretending to sing You Light Up My Life. And Suzie Bright makes an appearance as herself, appropo of nothing but lending authenticity to a group of middle aged women partying.

Oh and things wrap up with a rendition of Jane Siberry's Calling All Angels. Couldn't be more perfect.

1-2-3-5-6-7

This afternoon, I was complaining to my office mate Lauren about how I didn't want to go to the salsa class that I had signed up for. When I got there it turned out that the four classes that I paid for didn't include my last weekend, when I was out of town. I went to substitute tonight's class for last Saturday and realized the I had to pay anew for a class this evening, but since I was there I did (and paid for) the Wednesday evening class. It was definitely worthwhile. It was an excellent review of the basic step, the right turn and the left turn. There were 60 people trying to learn salsa. Frankie Martinez broke it down for us. When we got into partner work I did get into trouble, but while we were doing the basic step ad nauseum I noticed that I knew when to move my hips.

Sad News

Reading the news in England just makes me feel sad. It's also sort of unreal.

UCLA's Art Market Sensation

You know you are doing something right when you open the NY Times and find the lead sentence of an article describing one of your humblest, most-hardworking friends. My pal Elliot, who was the date to my junior prom, incidentally, was featured in the Times Art Section this Sunday. One of his paintings can be found on the second page of the article.

Weekend in Boston/Worcester

I had a lovely weekend in Boston, catching up with friends, eating out, and enjoying very fine weather. I did a little salsa dancing on Friday night, and I am happy to report that I successfully danced with many, many people without making an absolute fool of myself. I found myself wishing that I could make turns that were actually graceful, but then I realized that I had to cut myself some slack and appreciate the fact that I was actually successfully following people and giving myself an opportunity to practice.

Sunday evening found me making a fourth round of margarita's at the house of the Mom of my friend Jessica and defending Alberto Gonzales as the the best possible thing we could hope for as replacement for Sandra Day O'Connor, which I realize I may come to regret. Also, we danced to the latest Romanian pop sensation, a la New Jersey college student.

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