Apparently the key to beating the Beedies is not just eating paper and water, but exercising as well. Yeah, I knew this already, but you know how it is when you're looking at either going to the apartment's workout room or sitting on the couch. If you go to the workout room, you end up watching whatever crap is on the TV there, usually Oprah. Who needs that kind of sorrow in their life?
But once I got a bicycle, I felt the urge to actually get out and move. Naturally, the day after I got it, it was cold and rainy for four days straight. I sat at home, watching my blood sugar NOT go down, until two days ago when I finally decided to get out and ride no matter what the weather was like.
I'm glad I did. There's a trail that runs right next to my apartment (stalkers and killers take note: it's this one), and it's big and flat and concrete. I see old people on it all the time. Piece of cake.
Except for the hills. I call them hills, but you might refer to them as slight inclines, smartasses that you are, every one of you. In any case, I wasn't expecting there to be HILLS. It was a more vigorous workout than I expected, but I still enjoyed it immensely.
The best part? My blood sugar dropped over a hundred points after each ride; today's 131 was the lowest I've had since the Beedies moved in.
The worst part? Having to walk my bike up a hill in front of one of the many saucy stay-at-home MILFs (out walking her little gerbil dog, an obligatory accessory) that roam freely about North Dallas like the great herds of bison that once covered the western plains.
One hates to look weak in front of the MILFs.
February 23, 2006
Well, I suppose it was inevitable...
I know, I said I'd never do it. I'd never give in to the blog craze. All the cool kids were doing it, but I was, you now, Too Cool. Cooler than the cool kids.
The word itself sounded like something my pug might cough up. "Blog." Like cell phones and those funny spinning hubcaps, blogs were new-fangled and scary, not for an old man like myself. And all the good names were taken already, most frustratingly by people who posted one lame entry and then went merrily on their way, never to return.
It was getting harder, however, to post big long entries over at Darn Tootin when I wasn't having big long things happen in my life. (That sounded dirty, but let's move along.) I liked the idea of being able to post short entries without having to make them fit into some larger structure. I love my journal, and I like the idea of being able to write actual essay-type entries over there when the mood strikes me, without any more of those squashy, "here's a bunch of random crap" entries.
So I'm splitting things up a bit, which will hopefully result in better journal entries over there and more entertaining short bits here. As the title of the blog suggests, I anticipate a large percentage of my posts here to be about Schuyler. If that's not your thing, I totally understand, although honestly, I can't imagine you'd be reading this in the first place if you weren't.
(If you are new to my stuff, you really should go read up at Darn Tootin. All shall be revealed there.)
The coolest thing of all? I'm posting this from my flickr page, where it will automatically throw in the photo of my choice. Why didn't someone tell me how easy this is? I feel like everyone's been watching me hand-code my big ugly journal entries like a caveman and snickering behind my back.
I'll tweak all this some more tomorrow. Schuyler will be home all day, as she is sick. Julie called me at work to tell me that Schuyler had gotten extravagantly ill on the way home from school.
"Was it bad?" I asked.
"She had mixed fruit at school," Julie replied.
I could tell from her tone that she had acquired that information the hard way.
The word itself sounded like something my pug might cough up. "Blog." Like cell phones and those funny spinning hubcaps, blogs were new-fangled and scary, not for an old man like myself. And all the good names were taken already, most frustratingly by people who posted one lame entry and then went merrily on their way, never to return.
It was getting harder, however, to post big long entries over at Darn Tootin when I wasn't having big long things happen in my life. (That sounded dirty, but let's move along.) I liked the idea of being able to post short entries without having to make them fit into some larger structure. I love my journal, and I like the idea of being able to write actual essay-type entries over there when the mood strikes me, without any more of those squashy, "here's a bunch of random crap" entries.
So I'm splitting things up a bit, which will hopefully result in better journal entries over there and more entertaining short bits here. As the title of the blog suggests, I anticipate a large percentage of my posts here to be about Schuyler. If that's not your thing, I totally understand, although honestly, I can't imagine you'd be reading this in the first place if you weren't.
(If you are new to my stuff, you really should go read up at Darn Tootin. All shall be revealed there.)
The coolest thing of all? I'm posting this from my flickr page, where it will automatically throw in the photo of my choice. Why didn't someone tell me how easy this is? I feel like everyone's been watching me hand-code my big ugly journal entries like a caveman and snickering behind my back.
I'll tweak all this some more tomorrow. Schuyler will be home all day, as she is sick. Julie called me at work to tell me that Schuyler had gotten extravagantly ill on the way home from school.
"Was it bad?" I asked.
"She had mixed fruit at school," Julie replied.
I could tell from her tone that she had acquired that information the hard way.
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