heeding my own advice

so i've been trying out this new four letter d word
yeah - a diet.
shut up.

and basically i have 2 things working against me
my lack of willpower
and my refusal to weigh or measure anything.
so muddling my way through this diet by eyeballing and estimating portions, i'm probably being completely counterproductive, as well as giving altogether too much fodder for d to get bothered with me, since she is my tracking system and constantly reminds me that she can't track 'a handful of blue chips and a chunk of salsa' or 'almost a whole bowl but not quite full with enough milk to cover the cereal and about a third of a banana.'

point being, i need to measure.
other point being, this diet is supposed to help me to recognize what a normal portion is, which i have some difficulty with, because if something is yummy, i want to eat all of it, until it's gone (clean your plate syndrome [thanks mom]) and then some kind of weird psychological survival instinct kicks in that makes my brain feel the need to stock up on food, as if i won't get any for the next year.

this seems to happen especially in traditional italian restaurants and at family bbqs.

so tonight i ate:

1 sesame tamari rice cake
5 pieces of italian bread with butter
3 breadsticks
5 baked stuffed clams
1/2 stuffed artichoke
2 mussels marinara
1.5 chunk burnt garlic chicken
1 bowl rigatoni with shrimp and white sauce loaded with parmesean cheese
1 strand broccoli rabe
2 fried zucchini
4 tartufo, which is an ice cream cake, vanilla on the bottom, chocolate on top, marachino cherry in the middle with crushed almonds separating the flavors, covered in a hard chocolate shell, then cut into 8s. so i ate half a tartufo.
2 bites italian cheesecake, which is made with ricotta cheese
3 pieces watermelon
1 piece honeydew
1 cappucino
2 bites chocolate puddin

i've spent the better part of the evening trying to make my body break this mess down. the sounds i'm emitting are surprising me and scaring the cat.

we can safely say i lost control tonight.

back to celery stalks and seltzer tomorrow.



celebrity spotting!

omgosh. i'm the worst type of fan - maybe.

extreme staring, altering my path to be closer, leftover stalker habits, the list goes on.


this very morning, in prospect park, while on a 7 mile ride with my beloved

we saw

julie goldman!

serious! in a tank and sweats, workin it around the walking road.

we pulled over to enjoy the pond for a little bit (so i could wait for her to pass)

but she didn't.

the pond was lovely.
the black duck was lovely.

where was julie?


lovely black duck

patiently waiting for julie


nice dates and other things

italian open room
hefe with an orange
olives spinach pesto
chocolate bread pudding
shy glances grinned
check out the cool bathroom
smells like cloves
felt like a first date

meandering down the avenue
posted lost kitties and friendly dogs
bulknight gems retrieved
razor scooter uphill union
forget the rules on 13th
i stole a kiss under the streetlamp

more of these would be good.



i gave up many of the vices we all lay claim to at some point or another
cut out the high school stalker style and traded up for a more living/breathing experience.
cut out the coffee 2 years ago, the cigs about 5, and the boozing about 1.
all of these cuts are fluid, of course.

saving one vice, which until tonight was not thought of as a vice, but must be, now that i consider dropping it, but probably won't -

the magic of overextended awakeness through the onset of ambien.

if only life were as trippy and simple and ADD clarity driven as when we are all hopped up on this magical sleep aid.

and i pine for the day they go generic, so i no longer have to shell out 40 bucks for a months supply.




i've spent the past few weeks lurking on a number of blogs i've sought out and others that i stumbled across.
the deeper i delve into this web 2.0 experience the more i learn about the online subculture and multitudinous varieties of subcultures listed within.
it gives me a sense of commitment phobia.
in everything i do, i always find my faults. and so my fault in blogging is that i don't have a niche. i don't have a distinct supra-culture that drives people here to read.
i'm just going on about my tiny little world.

i am learning that there is a sense of anonymity that seems impenetrable.
this appears to add to the safety and secrecy of the internet.

i'm left wondering so many things.
do bloggers out there make their sites public to their friends?
do bloggers keep their sites secret and deal with unexpected encounters as they come?
how much do we reveal?
how much is fiction?
where is the line drawn between i know you and i don't?

maybe i'm over-analyzing.
wouldn't be the first time.

just another fault.



i forgot to mention my trip to the botanic garden on saturday

haven't been there since i was a wee tot on a cheese bus

some pix:


please new job; kthxbai

it is getting serious now

the headache sets in by 8:10am

by 9 i remembered that i want to carry a notebook with me to record all the travesties of the day

the first floor unisex bathroom is broken

there is no soap in the dispensers on the 2nd floor

someone knocked the tp to the floor and stepped on it, rolled it around in the wet pee puddle and left it there

a garbage can has been tipped over in the hallway

fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you is scribbled endlessly in the stairwells

the principal doesn't reply to my emails

the math coach stalks me - there is nowhere to hide

the 7th graders show up where the 6th graders are and won't leave

the kindergarteners run through the hallway and don't stop when i say stop running

i can't bloody teach a thing because nobody will shut up and listen

i can't even post instructions because they won't bloody read them

a fight breaks out in my classroom and nobody is available to help break it up

it goes on for 10 minutes before security shows up

the two girls are back in school the very next day as if it never happened

i'm told i can't attend a meeting to learn about new software which will benefit the school for years to come

i eat my lunch in the hallway because classes are constantly in my room

there are candy wrappers left on my floors even though i have a no eating room

i complain endlessly and try to make the system work but there is no system and it doesn't work.

i send out 20 resumes and hear back from no one.

more to come.



i despise facebook.
from the logging in process to the lavender and white layout to the updates to the applications
i hate facebook.
i'm on my second round with it, after disabling or deactivating as they call it for a few months
i'll take it down again soon. i think i wanted to see what all the hype is.

here it is, the hype:

even moreso than friendster or myspace, or even linkedin or any of the others, fb is the ultimate popularity weapon. i've watched people accumulate friends exponentially on there, faster than i've seen anywhere else. maybe this triggers some awful remnants resembling high school. maybe i just want to take my round pizza wheel and throw it at someone, and watch the cold, greasy middle stick to them as the coagulated sauce drips down their chin. maybe i'm the one with the problem. maybe not having been popular in high school really did a number on me. or maybe, i just don't give a crap what everyone is up to. do i care that you're married? or you're engaged? does it impact me that you have a toddler and another on the way? does your life make me jealous, do i crave what you have? no. i don't. and i don't need to see you showing up in my 'people you might want to befriend' list. no, i don't want to befriend you.


i'm angry at myself for even blogging this.

au revoir, facebook. i'll be over here, getting my arms tickled for free.