In which I bemoan the loss of my twenty-something body… even though it’s been gone for, like, seventeen years.

God, I hate exercising. I don’t think I make the right endorphins. People are always going on about how they ‘feel so good’ after working out. It makes me sick because I feel nothing but tired and pissed off. A few years ago I took the most brilliant low-impact step aerobics class at the rec center, and even that just made me feel sweaty and agro.

I don’t mind walking twenty blocks to get somewhere, but any codified exercise activity just makes me mad.

Today for lunch, while watching a Tivo’ed episode of Sex and the City (oh Manhattan!), I ate three ounces of brie and an entire avocado in the form of a sourdough sandwich that also contained mayo and tomato.

Do you suppose these things are why I’m thirty pounds into territory that can only charitably be called ‘cuddly’?

Nah.

I think I want a new Pocket PC instead of an iPod nano for my b-day.

The geek in me is tempted to get a Sharp Zaurus simply because it runs a Linux shell, but the penny pincher in me thinks of all the software I’ve purchased over the years for WinCE and Pocket PC 2002, none of which would run on a Zaurus.

I think I’m interested in an iPaq RX3115. They run about $200-$250 on eBay and the reviews I glanced at were good. Plus it’s wireless, and runs Mobile 2003, and I liked my last iPaq.

My old Toshiba PPC is getting ready to retire. It still works, but due to button stickiness I’ve had to reprogram it to use non-sticky buttons for various functions, and it glitches out pretty frequently.

Of course I want an iPod nano because of the yummy form factor, but they’re only 4Gb (like my mini) so I probably won’t upgrade.

Which is good, considering that everybody says they’re too delicate to actually use.

I’ll wait for the next gen, when they’re 8Gb+ and the kinks have been worked out of the design. But OMG they’re adorable, aren’t they? And COLOR! THEY’RE COLOR!

I’m fond of this concept drawing. How cute is that “nano”?

In which my teeth are GORGEOUS.

In other news, I went to the dentist today. My teeth look fifteen years younger. My gums are rejoicing. It’s a fabulous thing.

Not so fabulous was when the hygienist used the Cavitron on my upper molars, and it sounded like some soprano-voiced creature was being vivisected at about two thousand decibels, inside my head.

“MY GOD THAT’S LOUD!” I said after I winced and made a face and she stopped. “It’s so loud it hurts! What a horrific sound!”

“Your teeth’s roots must go way into your sinuses,” she said.

Somehow, I doubt that comment was calculated to make me feel sexy.

In which I still love New York.

I still love Manhattan. I miss it. I watch TV shows and movies I wouldn’t normally watch because they’re filmed there. I buy magazines I wouldn’t normally buy because they’re based there. I think about Manhattan while I’m in the shower. It’s like the worst crush I’ve ever had.

My husband won’t let me move there. Something about thinking his wife should live in the same state he does. The insensitive bastard. Can’t he see I’m pining away?
——–

In which I freak out.

I will turn 37 next Thursday. I think I’m having a mid-life crisis.

Look at this and tell me: is this for real? Is this storm really shaped like that, or is this some kind of Nat’l Weather Service joke?

I mean, maybe my mind’s in the gutter, but damn if that doesn’t look like a peeee-nis.

(Image from here.)

In which the loo changes radically.

LISCO hired a new cleaning company for the engineering office.

Yesterday a woman spent 45 minutes detail cleaning the not-very-dirty bathroom, which annoyed me because I really had to go and 45 minutes is clearly overkill.

The point is that she apparently put in one of those tank pucks, and now the water’s a creepy, deep blue color and it smells like chemicals.