On the Subject of the Fitness of One's Physique

Some sort of spring fever seems to have hit the world at large, and instead of cleaning, my nearest and dearest are flocking to gyms, yoga studios, and the great outdoors for the purpose of greasing their knee joints, increasing the relative strength of their heartbeats, and presumably, nurturing that more abstract but socially hygienic goal of "physical fitness." So I, like the lemur [LEMMING] I am, got in line to jump off the cliff. I joined the gym.

Not only "the" gym, or "a" gym, but the Campus Gym. The San Diego State University gym, or the "Aztec Recreational Center" as they euphemistically term it-- a friendlier term than "The Gym Where 30 Thousand Hardbodied Undergraduates go to Lift Hundred Pound Weights on their Buttocks while Engaging in the World's Most Perfect Downward Dog." It's enormous, it's open 24 hours, it's color scheme is primarily grey. It's serious bidness.

For those of you who haven't known me since high school when my "physical fitness" consisted of hoisting a bottle of 20/20 to my lips (followed, perhaps, by ab-strengthening Toilet Bowl Worship), I have engaged in some basic physical fitness in the last ten years. I have yoga'd, I ran for several months, I mastered the Lusty Leapfrog (remember: there is no such thing as an overshare). 

And now, after a year-long hiatus, I'm attempting to reengage in the world's most obnoxiously beautiful city. And I mean beautiful people-wise. I should qualify, as this is a particularly blonde, tan, toned sort of beauty, not one to which I necessarily prescribe, although I enjoy T&A as much as the next fellow. This is Intimidating. I have Fitness Shame.

I think this is partly because, other than my pastiness and Lack of Tone, I seem to be in reasonable shape, because I am thin. This is a lie. Although I can touch my toes to my nose (a strange sort of claim to fame), I no longer have any sort of cardiovascular stamina. Even at my running peak, after six months of going 4 days a week, I could only go a mile and a half. In half an hour. People walk faster than I run. And I am PROUD of that accomplishment, my friends. 

I expect to die, but I really hope it won't be because of a treadmill Incident. I'll keep you posted.

3 Wishes

I've given a lot of thought to what my three wishes would be if a genie popped out of, say, the vase I picked up from my last trip to Goodwill. There are a lot of reasons for this, I'm sure, including a passionate love for fairy tales, fantasy novels, and men in parachute pants. So, after at least twenty years of mulling over this question, I'm ready to reveal my three choices:

1. I wish to be able to change shape into whatever animal, vegetable, or mineral I desire. (This requires amendments)

• I have to be able to change back!
  
• There have to be some  formal words to think or say aloud in order to do this, lest, you know, mid-coitus, the image of a porcupine should pop into my head and my husband would end up doing some SERIOUS explaining in the hospital.
  
• I need to be able to change from one shape into another without going back to my intermediate human shape.
  
• When I change back into a human, I need to be wearing the same clothes and retain whatever objects I had with  me before I changed.
  
• I need to be able to retain my human brain and consciousness in whatever shape I change to, even if it's a flea, or say, a diamond (a diamond shape would actually be really useful if say, a piano was about to fall on your head.)
  
• I also need to be able to retain the abilities and instincts of whatever animal I change into. It wouldn't be much help to change into wolf form and then not be able to run because I don't know what to do with my tail, or into fish form without knowing how to breathe through gills. 
  
• I also want to be able to change my human shape. So I could be a man, or a child, or an old woman, convincingly. Even better, I should be able to know the things a helicopter pilot, or doctor, or painter should know, if I change myself into one.
  
• I should also be able to wish to be myself, but in a different place. So this takes care of teleportation, basically.
  
• I have to be able to retain the memory of being whatever I change into, and what happened while I was in that form.
  

2. I wish to have the power to know the answer to any question. (This is another one that can bite you, so more amendments).

• Again, there have to be some sort of magic words uttered so I don't find out things I'd rather not know, which seems to be the fate of many people who receive this wish. I don't want to KNOW everything, I just want to be able to find things out.
  
• I want to be able to find out not only factual things, but also more subjective things. For instance, it would be very helpful to know what the best way to go about getting someone to give you something.
  
• I want to be able to forget anything I need to.

3. Free the genie. Duh.

I'm fairly confident these are the best wishes ever. Shape-shifting is awesome-- I can experience anything, from flying to deep-sea diving to watching my neighbor's HBO. Knowing anything I want to know could take care of me for the rest of my life-- in trouble with the law? Instant blackmail! Need money? Find some local buried treasure! Want to cure cancer? Bingo. And if you're tempted to ask a question you know you shouldn't (does he really love me, what do my friends find most annoying about me, what am I really like?) you can forget about it. And everybody knows you're supposed to free the genie. If you think you know different, you obviously haven't read  "The Djinn in the Nightingale's Eye" by A.S. Byatt, and if you haven't already, you should. 

Anybody think they have better wishes? Or think I left something incredibly important out of my amendments?

Essence o' Bloggery

Credit for the painting goes to Caravaggio, liquor-swilling, shop-lifting, brawler of a Baroque artist, who painted this, his Narcissus.

10 Reasons you May not want to Read this Blog.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I've decided to reveal ten strange things about myself right away. Just so, you know, everyone gets it right from the start.

1- I love mushroom hunting. LOVE it. I don't even eat most of the mushrooms I collect: I just like finding them. I think this has something to do with an overly goal-oriented type A personality (edging into an "A-" lately...). I get bored just wandering through the woods; I need to be LOOKING for something. Plus, mushrooms are just... neat-o.

2- Obviously, I get a thrill from itemization of any kind. But more particularly, I love the lists you get when attending summer camp, or conferences, or going off to college for the first time-- "What to Bring." For instance, I saved (!!) a list from Camp Bernadette, a Catholic camp I attended for three damp and miserable summers, attempting to read Diana Ackerman books (about nature!!) in kayaks, deep right field, and while standing in line to practice archery:

1. Enough t-shirts, underpants, shorts, and socks for two weeks

2. A pair of closed-toe shoes

3. A pair of jeans for horseback riding

4. Toothpaste and toothbrush

5. Flashlight

6. Sunscreen

7. Bug repellant containing "DEET"

8. Although toilet paper is provided, some campers may wish to bring their own. [!!]

It still gives me profound satisfaction.

3- I have a preternatural ability to match colors. And I love to do so. I have actually selected from a bin of Granny Smith Apples the ones that best matched my chartreuse chairs.  

4- I wear underwear underneath pantyhose. (And am incapable, almost, of propriety. So be forewarned!)

5- I rarely buy tissues, but when I do, they MUST be Puffs Plus with Lotion. My Mom totally wouldn't buy them growing up, and although I've outgrown eating all the sugary cereals she wouldn't let us eat, I will NOT compromise my philtrum!

6- I have the world's narrowest, longest, flattest feet (microcosm of a macrocosm, as they say). I HATE shoe shopping, and when I find shoes that fit, I buy many pairs. Also: I never wore shoes without socks until a couple of years ago, when I realized how dorky it really looked. Especially with pants that are too short. Which almost all of mine were at the time.

7- I am flexible enough to sit cross-legged, then lay all the way back. I actually sleep this way most nights. I worry about this, since it is bad for my knees. I'm trying to train myself out of it. On another sleeping note, my roommate in boarding school once told me that I always slept with one arm over my face. This was untrue (I did that in the morning because she was so noisy and I wanted to indicate that I was still asleep), but I was so delighted that someone noticed something like that about me, that I started to sleep like that all the time.

8- I'm a vegetarian who loves meat, and doesn't think killing animals is wrong. I'll spare you the specifics, but I do it for environmental reasons.

9- Although it's not particularly strange to have a favorite number, I do have one. Ten guesses what it is!

10- I don't know what date my husband and I got married. Neither does he. Sometime around January 15th, we pull out the old marriage certificate and double-check. 

So put that in your pipe and smoke it.

P.S. I cannot vouch for the palatability of this CD, only the coolness of its cover design. Buy it here.