Nothing fancy
Save for my spiffy new wallet! After 7 years of trial and error, I’ve finally found one that works for me.
I bought in in a little tobbacery on 2nd ave, while waiting for a bus last night. Seemed like a natural thing to stop in and browse.
In other news, I maintained at a healthy 176 lbs throughout the weekend, although Johnson’s scale intimated 179 with Saturday morning’s Dehydration.
I used those days to pick up three new pairs of pants, and three great flannel shirts. It would have been more pair (and after tomorrow, will be), but men’s clothiers have a very odd view of waist measurements, to the point where I have to wear a pair around for a few hours to gauge whether or not they actually fit. While the tale of the tape reads 30″, the tail of the jeans says 32. And since what I need is actually a 36 in inseam (rather than the 34 at which I’m forced to compromise), the propensity for near-symmetry in all things retail is distressing.
Made doubly amusing by the complete lack of regard for waistline accuracy at the other end of the scale. the “42” inch waist jeans I started this process with rounded up considerably, if you catch my lack of downward drift.
I did pick up a pair of very nice thrift store slacks (made by Levis, nonetheless) which fit better than all of the above with a listed measure of 30/32. But the one pair of 30/34 I was able to sample this weekend was not at all with the fitting, so I’m understandably perplexed.
And then there was yesterday.
Astute readers may recall my friends Mark and Meghan’s wedding, at which I was seated next to a stranger who happened to be on the plan.
I saw her again yesterday, and we had to put her eyes back in her head. It took her an hour or so in my company to realize I was the same person. Admittedly, all eyes were on DA BEARS as they dominated the hapless NO Saints. But this last 50 lbs or so has made a lot more difference than the first 70, and I feel completely justified in my decision to end the intentional deceleration on Friday.
Maintenance next week, then Rad Con, then on with my new life, with the “insurance plan” just a few keystrokes away.
Oh, and I’m not waiting to work out. 80 sit-ups this morning, and I danced in place at the bus stop for 20 minutes or so while the Metro caught up to my wacky schedule.
That is all. I did take a bunch of dressup pictures last week, but they didn’t come out at all like I had hoped. I’ll need a friend with a real camera and a few hours to kill to make this work the way I want it to. I’ll try to have them in place and ready for viewing by RadCon.
Where I have already warned people that indeed, I do not have Cancer.