A few days ago, I took off my engagement ring for the first time in several months. Felt divine. No, there’s no trouble in the nest – just swollen fingers. One of the unplanned consequences of gaining weight is that your fingers also get fat, and then your delicate little size 5-and-a-quarter engagement ring becomes an instrument of body modification.
I wonder if my fingers got chubby because they stopped working out (i.e., playing the piano)? Man, I mean, technically I know that fingers don’t have muscles, but I seriously had pinky biceps. I could make grown men cry just by playing Thumb War, my pinky against their thumb. Not so much these days. Man, but I had beautiful control. What the hell am I thinking, not playing?
I digress into self-disgust, which can’t be allowed. This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t lost my train of thought. I was sitting here minding my own business and had an especially nasty little moment of SVT, and I stopped writing for a few moments to catch my breath. Got that whole coughing/vague stomach upset thing going down. Now, of course, my body is doing that little hypochondriac thing it will do, and is manifesting little symptoms to go with the flutter. Interesting that my psyche suddenly knows heart attack symptoms to fake on me that I didn’t know until taking my first aid class a few weeks ago. Stupid psyche. Well, if I do die in the next five minutes, I leave my blog to the orphans.
Anyway. So I took my ring in today, on my lunch break, to get resized. It feels weird, having it out of my possession. Don’t like it. I should have it back on Friday, though.
Last week I went to Ross and bought some warmer workout clothes, and tonight I think we’re going to the gym. I got some lightweight sweat pants – I hate working out in shorts, they ride up and chafe – and a brilliant hot pink t-shirt with an image of the goddess Nike thereupon. Hooray wings. Getting new clothes is good motivation for me to go to the gym – I mean, getting new workout clothes inspires me to use them. I actually am not looking forward to shrinking out my current wardrobe; I really like my clothes, I just wish they were 8’s and 10’s instead of 10’s and 12’s. The occasional 6 in an expensive garment wouldn’t break my heart, either. Anyway, it’s high time we started going to the gym again. We’re both out of shape, we’re low-energy, I at least am borderline depressed. Exercise is definitely called for.
Speaking of exercise, I actually contacted the area taekwondo school, recommended by my black-belted coworker, for information on prices and location. They’re opening a location right by my work and near the house, and the website is encouraging. I’ve always wanted to, never quite made myself… but I’m inspired by (of all things) a fictional character and a mischievous granny, who can seriously kick butt. I want to kick butt, too. 
I’d like Ryan to come with me but I’m not sure if I can convince him of that. Many people who know me would not guess that I have a very aggressive side – people at work in particular, who just see my sweet, happy, even-keeled self. But I do have an aggressive side, a part of me that actually very much would like to play contact football or hockey if only she wouldn’t end up with lasting injuries. (How sad, to have the body of a woman with a bad back instead of a man with burly muscles.) I DIGRESS AGAIN. I’m not sure what will happen with the taekwondo; cost may be prohibitive, and they say you need to go twice a week, which may prove difficult, but I think it could be very good for me.
Several weeks ago, I lost my cell phone. I looked and looked and finally gave up on it. This was not good, as we were six months short of contract renewal. Eddie Izzard should add “Ryan, God of Tech Support” to his schtick, because my husband is amazing with call center people. Within fifteen minutes he’d gotten our contract renewed with eligibility for two new phones. Saturday, we tromped over to the cell phone store to see what was what, joking all the while that I – like him – would surely find my old cell phone now that we’d bought a new one. (Sure as shooting, I found it on Sunday. But that’s just irony for you.) I am delighted to be the owner of this beauty, which is doing me proud thus far:
I haven’t even begun to play with it, really. It apparently plays music like an iPod would, which is a feature I don’t need but will surely use. Anyway, it’s good to have a phone again.
What else, I wonder… well, I turned my sister into a harbinger of doom, that was fun. Man, she’s gorgeous in dramatic makeup. Should really convince her to use eyeliner regularly. I actually played with some makeup myself and found that I could make black eyeshadow work on a fairly “normal” basis – who knew? Not that I’ll be wearing that to work or anything, but it was still fun.
