September 27, 1997

x The Paperwork.
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Exercise Excuses

Diane tries to accept physical exertion into her life.

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..previously on the Paperwork

Index of days
Dramatis personae
Glossary of terms

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Today I went to a local gym and signed up for 3 years. Why, you ask? Because when it rained on Thursday I realized I was not prepared as of yet to go out and exercise in the rain. Wimpus americanus. I also don't have an excuse for the days when I sleep in and I don't want to go out in the hot sun.

But why 3 years? Because I'm a bulk shopper. It was less than $400 for 3 years. It comes out to $9 a month.

I spent most of the time chatting with the salesman, who was chatty, as salesmen should be. I mentioned that I was from Northern California and he said he was from Sacramento. He showed me a whole bunch of photographs he took from his last visit to San Francisco. I asked him if he was a photographer (the pictures were quite good) and I asked why the black-and-white looked so striking; he told me about his photographic techniques.

We somehow got on the subject of driving in LA and I quoted the movie Clueless on why should we learn parallel parking: "When everywhere has valet!"

Turns out his cousin is Stacey Dash, who played Alicia Silverstone's best friend.

That led to a conversation about the Industry. And thence to biking trails in Santa Monica.

When it came time to talk about prices, he took a whole bunch off the price I was about to pay. And I don't know how much of a gimmick that was.

It's not the greatest gym in the world, but it's pretty good. Lots of treadmills and stairmasters and stationary bicycles for me to use (did someone mention, "crosstraining"?) along with the weights I don't know if I'll use anytime soon.

But I have done it in the past.

I'm a nut for keeping score, as you know. And I just found a whole bunch of measurements from 1989, when I was most definitely an adult woman and exercising and not dieting. I've gained a lot of weight since then and, more importantly, a lot of inches.

And I'm really pissed at myself that I was ever that thin and didn't appreciate it.

But it's nice to know I can be that size.


Darin and I have decided to do the eye operation that Greg had. I think it's called Lasik. The modern grandchild of radial kerototomy. Well, it's a new-fangled laser operation that lifts off your cornea, shapes it, and then reattaches the cornea to your eye to give you 20/20 or 20/25 vision. (And isn't it cute? We're going to do it together. Really, we give ourselves tooth decay.)

I'm completely terrified by the prospect of doing this operation, of course: what if something goes wrong? But my eyesight is so bad -- I can't even measure my eyesight on the 20/x scale; I have to measure it in diopters, and my eyes are -11 diopters -- that the idea of having 20/20 vision is as seductive as a harem or cocaine...or a harem on cocaine...might be to someone else.


More television: C-16, with Eric Roberts and the majorly adorable DB Sweeney, was pretty entertaining.

And Millenium had more action in last night's episode than it did in all of last year, but since I wasn't paying attention, the episode didn't make any sense. What was up with the dogs?


Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics

I went for 5 miles yesterday. It took me an hour. I slowed down considerably at the end. I was pretty tired today, so I decided to give myself the day off.

I've signed up for a couple of 5K races in the area to prompt me to work at it. I respond well to external pressures; might as well make the most of it.

The 
             Paperwork continues...

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Copyright ©1997 Diane Patterson