Dull/Boring

Despite having run/jogged 13 miles already this week in addition to light weight training and yoga, I’m up to 132 lbs. This is puzzling, because I’ve also been eating/drinking in moderation.

According to my mother, I look “fine,” “good,” and “curvy,” though sadly not as thin as I was a year ago.

I may be fine with this, but obviously I’d feel guilty about feeling fine, so I’m working on developing a decent complex.

Pots, Kettles

What do you call a guy with whom you’ve had multiple one night stands, spread over the course of a five year period? We’re not really friends, not really pen pals. Mostly we just tend to forget the other exists until next time.

So I was kind of shocked to be on a group e-mail to people he wants to friend him on MySpace.

I mean, MySpace? Really? I’m young enough to know I’m way too old. He is now officially middle aged, even if he is only 36.

Deal-breaker, definitely.

Peaceful Coexistence

Take-out bibimbap is just about the perfect lunch food. (You only need about half the rice — the potions are generous, and the less rice, the greater the chili paste impact!)

What makes it even better is that it comes…from a bagel shop! Apparently, Pro Bagel on West 56th Street is branching out ethnically — because there’s nothing that goes better with bagels than bulgogi. I always say.

Ode to Sneakers: A Haiku

Impractical shoes
Briefest of walks bloodies feet
Hey! Fuck that shit, yo!

Have switched to caffeine pills (just 1-a-Day!) to avoid imbibing any coffee. It may seem pathological and counterintuitive, but surely taking fewer bathroom breaks will increase productivity. Plus I take them with green tea, for healthful antioxidant goodness. Bleh!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

Come on, liver, work with me…

Returned to working out during the past week (I took a lot of February off due to inclement weather), and consequently have begun feeling real hunger again, the kind that wakes you up twisting in pain. It’s always a surprise when it shows up, because, as you might expect, I’m quite comfortable when I actually go to sleep. And I eat second helpings at dinner. So the whole experience is curious indeed.

In more humorous news, I quite horrified my father by using the phrase “pop a cap in his ass.”

The Rainbow Room is quite nice, for the view, and the service is attentive and friendly. Also, if you’re a girl in a sea of guys, the waiters bring you extra crab cakes.

I met a man named Mohammed Islam who left a job at Windows on the World to work at the Rainbow Room, and on September 11th watched the whole thing go down from the 64th floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza. And while I am predisposed to like anyone who keeps refilling my glass, he seemed like a genuinely nice man.

This is an isolated and meaningless incident.