Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Ash Wednesday, and a spirit of repentance

Hello Everyone --

I'm imagining that this Ash Wednesday finds you embracing a new philosophy of self-denial and repentence, right? RIGHT???

I especially am repenting the 5 squares of Lindt Extreme Orange chocolate that I snarfed this afternoon. It's not a sin, exactly, as I didn't actually offer to give up chocolate for Lent, but I'm not proud of myself either. And of course today I played tennis for only an hour and a half, so exercise won't offset my self-indulgence. Hmmm. Tomorrow is another day, I guess. I'm hoping it's going to run a little lighter, calorically speaking.

Good job to all of you who lost weight, or even maintained. I put on a pound and a half, which was due to too much extreme dining with my elderly parents last weekend. Still, there are four more weeks to go, so all is not lost. (Obviously! I have 8.5 lbs to go.) By the way, Deb W has offered up an excellent idea for the next phase (we'll call it PHASE II!) of THWACk! We'll place bets on maintaining our new weights for the following eight weeks. That is one clever girl, always thinking ahead!

Meanwhile, I'll offer you up a cautionary tale, and naturally it has to do with one of my many, many boyfriends. This story is all about what happens when you eat one more sandwich... and three slices of pizza ... and then a couple of chips... and some dip. Oh, and a few more beers. And some jello shooters. Chocolate cake? Oh, gosh, why not? Whipped cream? Sure! Another shot or two of Smirnoff? Yessshhhhh. And you do that day after day, and then one morning you look in the mirror and ...

So yes. Mikey. He was kind of hot, in a really bad-boy sort of way.

I didn't like that tatt so much, but after a few beers it hardly mattered. He was super funny and always had tons of jokes and smokes, but mainly he had a rockin' rumblin' Harley and he used to take me out riding on Sundays after church. We'd roar up and down the roller-coaster roads in central Pennsylvania, screaming and laughing and scaring the pheasants out of the underbrush along the way. It was blindingly fun.

I had long hair then, and I'd come back into the house in the late afternoon with it all in tangles, and it was quite the trick to explain that all away. I usually said that we were re-enacting the plagues of Egypt during Sunday afternoon Bible study. Most of the time I guess I was reasonably believable. You know me, pretty much an astonishing actress.

Anyway, this went on for a while, and then Mikey moved away. He got a job in Pittsburgh and I didn't see him for a couple of years. I kept busy, and had lots of other things going on (you can imagine, I'm sure!) so I kind of missed him, but you know, I got over it. There were so many other boys pursuing me -- it was difficult to keep them all straight, really. I had my work cut out for me most weeks. I'm not the most organized person in the world and keeping one's social diary in order, especially without hurting anyone's feelings, is kind of taxing.

So yeah, Mikey called me up about two years later, and asked if I wanted to come out for a Sunday afternoon ride. Why not? Luckily, I wasn't busy that day.

I was waiting around the house, and the phone rang.

"Come on out, girl. I'm outside on my bike."

Wheeee! My motor revved, and I was suddenly starting to really be super excited to see him.

I rushed out the front door, and there he was!

He turned to me and grinned. "Hop on, baby!"

"Holy Cats, Mike! What have you done?"

"Aw, darlin', I joined a nude bikin' club. Ain't it awesome? So free and wild. Just like Easy Rider, sweetheart!"

"OMG, Mike! I forgot! I have Bible study this afternoon! I can't come along after all! Oh my gosh, I'm sooooo sorry!!!"

"Sheesh, babe, you're just as scatterbrained as you always were. Well, it's okay then. I gotta pick up some Bud Lites and smokes at the Jewel, so maybe some other time."

As he roared off, I wondered a couple of things.

How in the heck did he pack on the pounds like that, in just two years?

And ... he called me on his bike with his cell phone. Where in the world was he hanging on to it? No pockets, if you get my meaning....

Some things just don't bear thinking about.

xx e


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