You Say You Want a Resolution, Well, You Know
Another tradition I’m not really too keen on is staking one’s future behaviour on the arbitrary turn of a calendar page. The enshrined patterns of the holidays being what they are, though, some resolutions do make a certain amount of sense in their wake. Changes of diet, for instance. Mama Dog and I have had some ups and downs in the weight department over the past couple of years, in Mama Dog’s case for obvious reasons of pregnancy and breastfeeding and in my case for obvious reasons of inertia and indolence. We both did very well on the Weight Watchers way back when. It’s a diet program perfectly designed by a data obsessive such as myself, and I managed to lose forty-plus pounds in the time I stuck with it. Then I made my weight goal (exceeded, actually – I was down to 171.5) and celebrated with a bacon cheeseburger and fries. I didn’t gain all forty pounds back that night, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.
I exaggerate. I’ve gained weight back very very slowly, and am still somewhat lighter than I was at my porkiest. I’m up around 200 or so now – not sure exactly what the weight is, as I’ve been afraid to look at the scales. I’ve been thinking for some time that maybe I needed to make a return to dietary discipline, and shortly before the holidays, Mama Dog provided us with incentive by flunking her cholesterol test. It turns out my poor wife has a hereditary predisposition toward high cholesterol, and it’s reached the point where it could be life-threatening if steps are not taken. So taken shall steps be. We decided to have a last hurrah of glorious excess while staying at the home of noted food-pusher Gran, and then become judicious watchers of weight (though not Weight Watchers) and cholesterol ever after upon the new year. Well, actually, Mama Dog’s the one with the cholesterol problem. In another one of life’s cruel ironies, my fruit and vegetable-adoring wife has high cholesterol, and I, stewing practically since birth in sugar, fats, and preservatives, have freakishly low cholesterol. Goes to show something or other. But because I’m the frigging awesome husband that I happen to be, I’m going to stick to (mostly) the same diet that Mama Dog adopts, so as to lead her from temptation and deliver her from beef.
In other areas of resolve: I finally decided to say fuckit and throw out most of the old newspapers. I was still stuck somewhere in September and it didn’t look good for me ever getting caught up. I’ve saved the comics, though. I have to read them, no matter how bad they happen to be, because I’m a slave to continuity. Unexpected bonus: so far as I’ve read, the election never happened!
And lastly – thanks to all who voted in the “should I keep doing polls” poll. Looks like stupid polls are fairly popular after all. I’ve been drawing a blank on a stupid poll subject, but as soon as I come up with a stupid enough one I’ll put it up.
I exaggerate. I’ve gained weight back very very slowly, and am still somewhat lighter than I was at my porkiest. I’m up around 200 or so now – not sure exactly what the weight is, as I’ve been afraid to look at the scales. I’ve been thinking for some time that maybe I needed to make a return to dietary discipline, and shortly before the holidays, Mama Dog provided us with incentive by flunking her cholesterol test. It turns out my poor wife has a hereditary predisposition toward high cholesterol, and it’s reached the point where it could be life-threatening if steps are not taken. So taken shall steps be. We decided to have a last hurrah of glorious excess while staying at the home of noted food-pusher Gran, and then become judicious watchers of weight (though not Weight Watchers) and cholesterol ever after upon the new year. Well, actually, Mama Dog’s the one with the cholesterol problem. In another one of life’s cruel ironies, my fruit and vegetable-adoring wife has high cholesterol, and I, stewing practically since birth in sugar, fats, and preservatives, have freakishly low cholesterol. Goes to show something or other. But because I’m the frigging awesome husband that I happen to be, I’m going to stick to (mostly) the same diet that Mama Dog adopts, so as to lead her from temptation and deliver her from beef.
In other areas of resolve: I finally decided to say fuckit and throw out most of the old newspapers. I was still stuck somewhere in September and it didn’t look good for me ever getting caught up. I’ve saved the comics, though. I have to read them, no matter how bad they happen to be, because I’m a slave to continuity. Unexpected bonus: so far as I’ve read, the election never happened!
And lastly – thanks to all who voted in the “should I keep doing polls” poll. Looks like stupid polls are fairly popular after all. I’ve been drawing a blank on a stupid poll subject, but as soon as I come up with a stupid enough one I’ll put it up.
posted by PapaDogDuvalier | 5:40 PM
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