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The phone was NOT under the kitty. I thought that I'd left it on my bedside table, but it appeared on the table by my recliner under my jury summons. Because THAT'S the way to party on January 2nd! Up yours, civic duty!
Oh Panda, your journal really is the highlight of my day every time you post xD It almost makes me want to start a journal. But I shan't, for it would rarely be updated, and when it was, it would be filled with my recent failures. I'm not good at primal living at all! xD
She says, munching on a packet of crisps. -_-;
I love to be someone's highlight. And if you ever start a journal, go ahead and fill it with your failures. Living this way, when what is cheap and easy to eat IS RIGHT THERE IN YOUR FACE ALL THE TIME, can be very difficult. It helps me to read about how other people fail, what circumstances set it up, how far they slid, and then how they picked themselves back up. Then I'm not so hard on myself for when I have Panda Fail, because pretty much everyone goes through the same thing.
There's another store that I frequent that is also doing a holiday donation thing. I was going to buy a bag or two of groceries. Then I realized that the $5 bag and the $15 bag include chips. Pasta, well, most people think that's healthy. Chips?!
This totally makes me want to find a store in my area doing the Buy A Bag, just so I can root around in one and see what's inside!
You should try the butter tea, it's not greasy at all!
I have been drinking this a lot lately. I wish I could find some real yak butter so I could be authentically Tibetan about it but raw grassfed butter in a cup of rooibos is pretty close. I found on the net a place that was willing to sell me a whole yak but nobody selling yak butter. I don't think a yak would be happy in my back yard.
Every day I watch the sunset and think of the special times we once shared, when all was right with the world because I was in your arms. You laughed at my jokes. You found me sexy in Lipstick Jammie Pants. You dipped grapes in melted yak butter and fed them to me by hand while Drop Dead Diva played on my television. Oh, no, that was back when it was OUR television.
Why wasn't I enough? What could I not give you? Do you not know the lengths that I would have gone to please you? But you would not even let me try! Instead you chased after athomeontherange, after ApexPredator and Zoebird, even bloodorchid! You are not even her type! Pasdf91aew, there are people in this world who would love to have ONE partner, and here you are, chasing after FIVE. This is exactly why we didn't work, darling. Did you not see the irony in your favorite Bob Marley song being One Love, One Heart? Gay Panda did, and it broke Gay Panda's heart.
So do not visit my journal and flaunt what we used to have. That is just cruel, and I want to believe that you are a better troll than that.
Years ago, Gay Panda lied on an official document.
In the vast array of crimes that one can commit, mine would not even make a blip. While filling out my license renewal, Name: Gay Panda, Address: Magical Bamboo Forest, Height: 5’9”, I hesitated at the box demanding Weight. How rude! That’s not state business! I have to show my license to people all the time! This isn’t public information, any more than if I wear boxers, briefs, or French-cut bikinis. Preemptively humiliated at such exposure, my pen wavered above the box.
The truth was that I did not know my weight exactly, since I had not stood on my scale in the last few days. But I could say with confidence that I was over 200 pounds, and this is something that I could not bear to admit even to a complete stranger at the DMV who would process my form with no interest unless the answer was -14 or 3,067 or Q. I liked the idea of saying my weight is the variable Q, a polite code for BUZZ OFF I’M FAT.
I weigh Q.
I skipped the box and filled out the rest of the form until it could no longer be avoided. I had to put in something, I was NOT going to weigh myself (because then I would know and that would make a lie more egregious), and if I wrote Q, I’d be confronted since nobody but me would know what Q means. I was NOT going to put in 200, even if that was also a lie since I was above it.
Gay Panda was raised in a strict school; lying was unconscionable. I’m not talking about white lies; those are a necessary evil to spare feelings. When a particularly hideous student in my class confessed that he loved me, I could not answer that Teacher eagerly waited for the bus every afternoon in order to be free of his incessant crying, whining, spitting, swearing, and assaults. I answered that I was glad to have him in my room. I tell white lies when given odd gifts like a vase that won’t stand up, or when someone has made a meal for me and it contains a loathsome ingredient like broccoli. Yum!
But this lie was to spare my own feelings, not someone else’s. And I KNEW that my weight hadn’t shot down in the days since my last weigh-in. Yet I could not bring myself to write 200 in the box. On my first license acquired at age 17, I was 140. I was tempted just to write that again, because it was what I should weigh at my height. But no one would ever believe it.
I weigh Q.
I wrote 190. After all, I’d zoomed past 190 on my Antidepressant Rocketship Adventure Ride. It was true in the past, and if ever I gained the ability to control time, it could be true again! 190. That’s not as scary as 200 (or the truth that I was even higher than that). 190 meant that I had a problem, yet somehow it wasn’t as daunting. After all, 190 is so close to 189, and the 180s aren’t too freaky. The 180s snuggle next to the 170s, and the 170s are neighbors with the 160s where lies the top range of what I should be. So 190 it was!
Although I limboed under the 190 bar a couple of months ago, it was just yesterday I realized that I am smaller than what my license claims me to be. Half of me wants to fill out the renewal form again just to write 183 (even if that is also not exactly the truth since I am 183.4*) and the other half of me still wants to write Q. Not because I’m that neurotic about 183 (.4), but because the topic of weight is so emotionally laden that I don’t like having it displayed in a public forum**.
I know that it's hardly a difference, but I was still happy. High Fat continues to be a World Of Nasty for this super-tasting, texture-averse panda. I achieved 68-69% fat (BLEH!) of 1200 calories. On a side note, I also won a duel with Bellatrix Lestrange last night, and today I will be sitting in office chairs to find one that is better for my back than a recliner. Why am I telling you this? BECAUSE YOU CARE.
I pulled out my spiffy new Colorado license when I read your story. Mine also states 190. I have been in the 190s since I've moved here (though not currently) but I haven't been 190. There are a lot of things I aganize over how honest I should be (usually it's not totally) but that isn't one of them. After all, I am going to have that ID for so long that at some point it's bound to be accurate, right? I agree, though- Q should be an acceptable answer. Particularly for women. And because it will entertain the otherwise very bored DMV staff.
Yay on the 0.2 decrease for today!
http://cattaillady.com/ My blog exploring the beginning stages of learning how to homestead. With the occasional rant.
Originally Posted by TheFastCat: Less is more more or less
In the beginning I felt a mild discomfort in my heels, and strangely enough in my rib cage - I guess that's because standing engages more of the core?
To be honest I originally thought that stacking timber up like this would be another fad type thing and would last only as long as a CW diet ever has. I was wrong - it is like the PB, once you get adjusted to it, it is great!
Hmm sorry I re-read your post again - are you saying that you are looking to use an office chair for eg watching netflix instead of in a recliner? I originally read it as you are currently using a recliner at your computer and are looking to change to an office chair. I'm a mixed up muddle of phreebie right now. Never mind, you'll love the stand up work station if you give it a try.
Do I sound like some kind of pushy zealot? I hope not. Then again maybe I could make my millions by evangelizing on tv about stand up work stations and get people from across the nation to post me cheques and money orders...
Alas that dream didn't last long as when I checked the TV guide I see that someone else has already beaten me to that niche. On Friday nights there is already an hour long stand up show.
In other news we don't have one's weight on the Driver licence. We only have:
Two photos - god I look fat in the face
Names - Last & given
Date you passed your test - oooh I feel old now
Date renewal is due
Whether or not you are an organ donor
Licence number & card version number
classes of licence held.
Privacy advocates got the requirement for the address on the licence to be made optional. Theory being that if, for example, a handbag was stolen, the thief now has your keys, and knows where you live.
Oh dear, I have prattled on for far too long on your journal. Sorry about that. Now I feel like Grandpa Simpson