All Dolled Up
1278 words long
...and nowhere to go. But there are worse things than being stood up....
this fictionette is losing weight
- 1,278 wds. long
Hello! This blog post is coming from you live and entire from the new new Asus, the celebrated X544, which I have named Phenix-Segundus. The old new Asus, the X540, never got a name while I had it, but I'm retroactively calling it Phenix-Primus. I am considering them to be two incarnations of the same firebird which has lifted the whole of my computing life out of the impending ashes of the old old Asus. That one hasn't died yet, thankfully, but every day it sounds like it's gonna. It's that fan, or maybe its hard drive: clack-a-clack-a-clack-a-whirrrrrrrrrr-thunk!-tickticktickticktick....
Also completed on Phenix-Segundus: A brand new Friday Fictionette! On time? Hoo-howdy, that thing was early. As in out before dark! (Its mama told it always to be home before the streetlights came on.) Right so, it's called "All Dolled Up," and it's about blind dates with no expectations, a fine friendship cemented in espresso and alcohol, and a sleazy pick-up artist with a... well. That would be telling. It ain't playing fair, is what it is. (Subscriber links ahoy: ebook, audiobook.)
In other Fictionette-related news, it turns out that outdated sectional aeronautical charts make very attractive stationery.
So this week I achieved a great accomplishment! I bought new jeans. Not only that, I bought 'em without waiting for the old ones to start to shred. The old ones, which more or less fit me when I bought them, are now falling off my hips. I freakin' lost weight, y'all. Like, fifteen pounds since February. Don't congratulate me--I wasn't trying to lose weight, and I'm honestly not sure it's a good thing. I've been about the same weight most of my post-college life, OK, and that includes the years spent playing roller derby other than this one. It wasn't going up, it wasn't going down--near twenty years of the same weight, you start to figure, OK, that's just me. A change that big and that sudden prompts a bit of an identity crisis.
It might have something to do with going on medication to control my blood pressure, although my blood pressure was fine until late 2014 or so. More likely, I guess, it had to do with six months of practicing with not one but two travel teams under coaches who bring serious strength conditioning and cardio to each table. Look at it that way, it kind makes sense. Does that mean I'll put the pounds back on again now that I'm only practicing with one team? Maybe that would be a good thing? I feel like, when I'm on the track, I need all the mass I can bring to bear, you know?
The BMI, of course, has an opinion about this. But the BMI can go dunk its head in the nearest lake for all I care. The BMI is not the boss of me.
Main thing is, I bought new jeans, and they fit. Huzzah! That, at least, is inarguably a good thing.