Saturday, March 29, 2008

Not That I'm Going to Fight You For Him ...






Too much auto signage is a problem in and of itself, but when you throw in some proprietary message about how Jesus belongs to YOU and you alone, well, that's just plain rude. I mean, I don't even believe in all that stuff, and I'm still -

Huh? What's that?

(Pause)

Oh.

Apparently, this is not an issue of ownership, but one of syntax.

Okay, then. I still say the images seen here constitute a disturbing aesthetic trend (at the very least!), but as far as my initial rant, well ...

Nevermind.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Sky Skiing From Vegas.


Every once in a while I see a cloud that looks so cool I have to take a picture (even if it's just through the windshield). This Sleepy Hollow-inspired athlete appeared as Tea and I were driving home from Vegas last week.

We'd left L.A. at 6 in the morning, and four hours later we were standing in Sin City. Well ... sort of. The strip felt less like Sin City than a busy construction site - moving only my eyes, I counted 16 cranes in one view. We wound up leaving town after a few hours in Circus, Circus (we first watched the trapeze artists, then sat a few Blackjack hands, and finally won slightly creepy stuffed animals on the midway ... does throwing darts at balloons or zapping a clown in the face with a stream of water ever become boring? I don't think so). It's a shame that Circus, Circus counts as an Old School casino now that every last beautiful building in Vegas has been been ripped down (go here for visual heartache) to make way for offensively bland (or just plain offensive) luxury crap like this. Spending time in Vegas is like spending time with someone who was interesting and quirky in college but turned into a heartless prick on his way up the corporate ladder. You long for time travel and it's almost instantaneously depressing.

By 4 p.m. we were on the road to State Line, a Western-style, three-casino compound on the Nevada/Californa border. I was justifiably nervous about this adventure (what could I expect for $24 a night at a place called Buffalo Bill's?), but I have to say, it was great. The room was clean and quiet, the casino was over-the-top Old West in the very best way, and the Blackjack table we parked at seemed to attract interesting, likable people all night long.

Oh yeah - and there's a huge roller coaster ... and a futuristic-looking tram that glides between the three casinos. Stateline rules!

As far as the diet, writing and exercise thing goes, the week could have been better, but it also could have been worse. I went on three good walks, began writing the new book (only a few pages in, but better than nothing), and at least I didn't gain any weight.

More soon.


P.S. Please reassure me that John McCain won't be the next president? I mean, it's fair to be worried. As some talking head recently said, "No one grabs defeat from the jaws of victory better than the Democrats ..."

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Tim Gunn Would Not Approve.


Eight months ago, I had nine pairs of jeans to choose from. Today I have just one.

That's right - I've packed on so much weight that I only have one pathetic, ripped-up, busted-at-the-seams pair of jeans left that fit (and no, I wouldn't call them a very good fit).

This is no way to be fashion-forward.

Adding to this serving of Misery Stew are the results from yesterday's visit to the doctor: I have gained back 28 of the 40 pounds I lost.

So. I guess it's time to turn this shit around: Back to Weight Watchers, back to exercising, back to writing, back to some semblance of discipline.

As far as the rest of my life goes, I would say things are good with the potential for great ... assuming I can manage to get myself back on track.

Along those "back on track" lines, here's an entry I wrote on February 18th but never published:


I fear I will ultimately lose her because, while I understand why she would want to be with me, I don't truly get why she would be attracted to me.

That's right, the same old insecurity-abandonment-self-esteem crap I can never seem to ditch . Then comes the internalized domino effect: confusion leads to fear, fear to suspicion, suspicion to paranoia, paranoia to mistrust, mistrust back to a whole new level of fear, and finally ( this is my favorite part because it's so constructive!), New Fear feeds directly into my self-sabotage tendencies.

And yet, because it's so deceptively easy to push all that aside, I'm happy most of the time.

If this is why I've frittered away most of the progress I made last year as a writer and a healthier person, well, that's a pretty sorry statement, indeed.

Not to mention the part about being a paranoid idiot in the face of evidence and actions that consistently point to the contrary.

I don't want to blow this relationship, especially not from the inside out ...

And I'm not just talking about my relationship with Tea.