...has begun. So far I've succeeded in nearly killing myself and losing roughly 10 pounds.
I did both by deciding today would be a splendid day to start running again. Outside. Mind you, it was tipping 90, but I convinced myself there was a breeze and that I could do this. That it would be good for me. Right around the time I saw the singing badgers holding up signs that read "Ryan is the Greatest American Hero" did I decide that maybe I was too light headed to continue.
Between that and sweatin' into the oldies as per usual just sitting in my apartment, I ain't be gettin' no need for that Atkins diet. I'm on the "sweat like an ape" diet. Works great. For once my hairy man pelt is working in my favor. Oh wait, no it's not, it still only exists to spite me.
The reprieve, of sorts, comes with the arrival of my roomie around 10 pm. Mind you, I hadn't seen her in 3 days, since between us, we're averaging 13-hours days, day in and out. But she helped me finally install my air conditioner right. And by right I mean, "I'm no longer terrified that gravity will take that sumbitch and send it 3 stories down." Seriously. Only the pressure of the window closing down upon it was holding it together. Tomorrow, on my first day off in a while, I'm all over "Operation: Get an Extension Cord cuz This House Don't Like it Much When Both AC Units are Running at the Same Time on the Same Circuit".
She helped my install my AC, which has been tenuously installed for years, and she drinks Diet Vanilla Coke straight out of the bottle. She rocks. You know, I don’t wanna date her, but I need someone that basically low-maintenance to date. You never read an ad on Match.com or Craigslist that reads:
“Hot chick who likes to watch TV, eat pasta out of the pot, generally veg out. Does not feel the need to hike a mountain every weekend. Doesn't actively loathe the outdoors, but greatly prefers central air.”
Instead, every single girl seems to be triathelete. Insane. Saw a great comic once who told all the guys in the audience, “Think about it this way---for every hour you’re in a gym working out…I’m in a bar talking to your girlfriend.” Same rule applies here. I’m not against the outdoors---I like, go there every day. Sometimes, several times even. But man, even reading these ads makes me exhausted. But if these girls are doing all the activities that they say they are doing, no wonder they are single…they aren’t meeting anything but pine cones. Bad stuff.
I have nothing against being active, but I refuse to believe that everyone is as active as they portray themselves in these ads. It’s as almost if we are inherently ashamed of liking to do as little as possible that involves physical harm. I have to doubly apology to people for not kayaking and for watching “Buffy” DVDs instead of said water sport. Not cool, yo. Homie don’t play that. And by “Homie” I mean me.
I guess “active” implies “fit” and people don’t wanna ask for sculpted guys, but if they find out the guy also spends his free time playing soccer, tennis, ultimate frisbee, white-water rafting, skeet shooting, and cross-country pole vaulting, then they can assume a pretty non-Horatio Sanz built character. Rather than seeming shallow, they go the long way around to end up at the same point on the circle. I suppose “sedentary” is not a quality that pops up a lot on a list of “assets” in the dating world.
Sorta speaks to a greater issue, tho, and that’s the person who constantly feels the need to DO something, all the time. Gotta fill up those hours. I used to be like that. My day would go 7 am to 1 am every day, with a full-time job and full-time theatre at night. Just nuts. After a few years, I got a call from my body. Wanted to meet me in a public place and have a talk, sorta like the one in “Jerry Maguire” where Jerry got fired. And it told me to stop doing what I was doing lest it go on strike. Now, I still try to work out every night if I can, but if I don’t, I don’t beat myself up about it. I beat myself up because I’m slamming my head into an office wall cuz it’s 10 pm and the client has signed off yet. But that’s a whole other story.
Point is, down time is underrated. Underutilized. And underappreciated as I look idly across this vast landcsape of singledom. Maybe I’m just naïve. Maybe just lazy. Maybe I didn’t love you…quite the way that I should. But you were always on my mind…
Whoa, little Willie break there. Sorry about that. Sufficed to say, I realize effort has to be made in some form as I traverse (or rather, kinda amble with no real intent) through this dating scene in Boston. I know that I will have to stick my neck out and exert some force in the matter. I just hope, when the time comes, that I’m not applying force to a paddle near jagged rocks on the Merrimac River. I can tell them about my diet if they are so interested in losing weight.
I’ll tell them while we’re sipping a beer on my porch. Yea, that might be nice.
Have a great weekend, everyone.