With My Body...

This weekend will see a wedding extravaganza of the kind that I've not experienced in Britain. So, rehearsal dinner, brunch with Granny, speeches, skits, more brunch... My clothing choices get increasingly forgiving and able to expand as we move from Thursday to Sunday.

As always, I will carouse, dance, toast, and weep with abandon. And more than a few of those tears will be for Janice Langbehn and Lisa Marie Pond, who couldn't get married to each other because they're both women, and so spent all but a few minutes of the last 18 hours of Lisa's life apart. That shouldn't happen to anyone. So I will rejoice in my friends' happiness and keep hold of how unbelievably lucky they are, in many ways.

Softly, Slowly

I'm slowly getting accustomed to being on my own during the week while Dr. TOH is off teaching the youngsters at The College. I'm sat comfortably with some document review, one of my cats curled up next to me, with mindless tv on. It's not ideal; it's not what I really want to be doing right now, given that I'd much rather be gently drifting off to sleep while curled up in Dr. TOH's arms; but it'll do.

Domestic Bliss

On Friday was the first dinner party in the new apartment. It was amazing - basil and baby tomatoes from the garden, barbecue in the garden, and organic steak from the co-op. Yum. And today, I made sorrel soup from the stuff in the garden.

Things I've learned about the place:

• There is simply NO END TO CAT HAIR
• This is not the best time of year for sorrel - earlier, when it's less bitter, is undoubtedly better. Or with more bacon. Always more bacon.
• Along the bacon lines, there are few soups that aren't improved by sour cream.
• This is an amazing recipe for steak.
• I like gardening, but there are STILL biting things and I got feasted on, yet again, by those biting things. Sods.

Alternatives

Today I started the 100 Press Ups Challenge. Ulp. I am a rubbish press-upper: I don't dip enough, I find it hard to keep my back in the correct form, and I don't position my arms to get the optimal entire arm workout. Nonetheless, I am now able to do more of the rubbish press ups than I could before, and my aim is to a) get a little better and b) do more of the less rubish versions.

I also felt a little abashed reading Zuzu's post today, because while she has trucked on with the new rules of lifting for women and is on the penultimate stage, I have failed to keep up with my lifting, despite seriously enjoying it and also seeing some great results in terms of strength gains.

So, despite work entering a whole other "oh sweet zeus" stage this week, I'm going to try to go at lunchtime. Even if I don't get time to shower and have to start buying pot pourri / air freshener for my office. Thank goodness for having my own little space in which I can stink myself out and no one else.

Change of Focus

For the last couple of years I've kept track of my NYE resolutions on this blog. But I've decided to do things a little differently. Rather than read myself the riot act for not being healthy/cultured/whatever enough, I'm slowly but surely resolving to do things right as I go along - that is, find things that make my life better and continue to do them. The corollary to that is to identify and remove things from my life that make them worse. And, also, engage in a little bit of teaspooning here and there.

So, I'm making small resolutions, such as unsubscribing from bliss emails. I have also decided to stop buying "women's" magazines that don't explicitly have a positive mental health bent. I am using the quotation marks because I think that they often do more harm than good. They push self-loathing, which is never an attractive trait. I always thought that it didn't matter because I like the rest of it, and, for all my public neuroses, I'm actually pretty secure (too secure, probably - i.e. obnoxious). Nonetheless, I don't think I should be supporting this kind of article, which is, frankly, horrid. And I don't want to support photoshopping to this level, especially when it is so unrepentant and captures you "at your best" because, god forbid, your best cannot possibly be 15 pounds heavier.

So there you go.