Once, on a holiday out on the Pacific Ocean, I jumped off a cliff just like this. Needless to say, it didn't go as planned. I stumbled a little, right at the edge, and tumbled arse over teakettle into the sea. The problem really came about because I was having one last cigarette* before the jump -- a little case of nerves, I'm afraid (I know, me??) -- and I dropped my lighter, which skittered over the edge, and there you go!
And there I went right after it!
I'm sure you're rolling your eyes, because who the heck dives headfirst after a Bic? But of course, it was a vintage Dupont in a Dunhill case, given to me by the most charming young aristocrat when I was holidaying at the casinos** in Monaco. I've actually now forgotten his name, but naturally a girl never forgets her first classic lighter. Gosh, such a tragic loss. If there'd been any justice in the world, the charming young aristocrat would have gone over the edge of the cliff instead of the lighter, because he really was rather a tosser. Filthy rich but a bit feeble in the brains department. Too much interbreeding in royal families in Europe, if you ask my opinion on the matter.
Anyway, I'm pretty sure I landed in the water with an entirely enormous THWACK, but I don't remember a thing, having hit my head somewhere on the way down.
When I awoke, lying on the sand, still ravishingly beautiful yet at the same time ever so slightly concussed, it was to a crowd of faces circled directly above me, all looking very concerned.
"What happened?" I asked.
A blond Californian-type girl breathily answered me.
"OMG, you totally fell into the water all sideways. We all thought you were totally dead or something!"
Hmmm, reassuring.
"So who rescued me, then?" I asked, "Was it Mr. D?"
I looked around for my dear husband.
"OMG, no, are you kidding? He's out on the links! Don't you remember?"
Ah yes, golfing. Of course!
So who did pull me from the sea's briny depths?
"It was him!" as California girl pointed toward the shore...
Oh yeaaaahhhhh. It's all coming back to me now.... Naturally, I bought my surfing saviour a few drinks and rewarded him amply and generously for his good deeds. As one does.
He seemed relaxed and exhausted but happy when he wandered off down the beach a few hours later. These young lads! Stamina's not always what you'd expect, but then he did wear himself out rescuing me from Davy Jones' locker, so who am I to kvetch? He made me promise to call him next time I'm in the area. Begged, really.
I'll have to think about it, because of course you know I'm always so busy! Plus I'm not always so sure about Mr. D's golf schedule, which is kind of a key detail to have to hand when you're making plans with vague surfer boys who haven't a clue about tee times and whatnot. It's hard to keep all this sh** straight. I'm easily confused and slightly forgetful which makes catting around pretty much impossible for me. I imagine that one has to be able to remember the lies one tells, and I can't even remember what I had for breakfast! (Probably granola and yogurt, but then again, that might have been yesterday. Or the day before! Do we still have eggs? Why is this empty marmalade jar sitting on the countertop? *sigh* Sometimes I just don't know what I'm doing, or what I've done. I'd like to think it makes me enigmatic and mysterious, but on a bad day it just looks like dementia, fo' sho'.)
Okay gang -- time to think of swimsuits and of hot weather and of sultry summer evenings and of that trickle of sweat slipping all the way down from the nape of your neck to the small of your back in the heat of midday. Because sumer is icumin in and we all need to be ready for bared bodies and slimmer selves. Hope you've set yourself a new attainable goal that will make you feel happier when you achieve it. You'll be sliding into a smaller sized suit for sure. Why not listen to this Nat King Cole version of this lovely song as well, to get you in the mood for sunshine? Summer is a comin' in.... ! It's true!!! [Click on those linky things... they're really nice!!]
Best of luck for round 2. Drink more water, exercise a little bit more or a little bit longer, add one new thing to your daily sport routine, or cut out one snack. Substitute a piece of fruit for a cookie. (I know, I know! What a bore!) Go out for a walk at the witching hour of 5-7 when most unconscious snacking occurs. Take up a hobby that keeps your hands busy and makes eating impossible. (Drawing, knitting, painting, piano.) Ummm. That's probably the extent of my good advice. Go through your clothes closet and pack away all the fat jeans. You won't be needing them soon! Other ideas?
Fall in love. Get a puppy. Write in a journal instead of eating. Think about awareness. Eat consciously, only when you're truly hungry, and stop before you're truly full.
Let's get going!
xx e
* I quit smoking a while ago, really!
** I don't gamble, in truth. I'm way too cheap. Even a buck lost in the slots is too much for me.
(I'm saying this just so you don't think I'm REALLY a terrible person! A gambler! *sharp intake of breath*
I definitely don't want to have my Wheaton/Glen Ellyn citizenship stripped from me in some publicly humiliating fashion. Though the stocks could be fun. Where exactly are those located in Wheaton? Town hall? Train station???)
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