My Extremely Petulant Comments Policy

October 3, 2005 by Wendy

Now that the site’s redesigned, the comments feature works a little differently than it used to. It’s set up to prevent huge onslaughts of gibbering robot comment spam, and over the past few months I’ve realized these measures allow me to moderate the incoming comments in other ways, too. My dumb little rules are as follows:

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Forever's gonna start tonight!

August 24, 2005 by Wendy

I haven’t even told you of my return to the ranks of the Weight Watchful Ones, have I? That I rejoined WW about a month ago? I’d been doing it online on and off for awhile, but for the past month I have been going to actual meetings in real life, the real world of flesh and blood; of membership cards; of yet more flesh weighed in on real fucking scales in front of other actual live people and everything. Oh, the humanity, and so much of it ON ME.

So it seems I’m fighting again: I’m back in The Shit. Lately I’m more willing to do everything I ought to. I eat mostly the CORE foods but follow the FLEX plan. I have heard this referred to as “Flexcore,” which sounds more like a godforsaken metal subgenre than a way of eating, but it seems to be working. I look up the points information for almost everything. I check the points listing for the Panera menu at DWLZ and Dottie breaks the bad news to me in Comic Sans. And the current new name/slogan/tagline/operating paradigm for the whole WW Program is “Turn Around,” which unfortunately causes excerpts from the song “Total Eclipse of the Heart” by Bonnie Tyler to spiral through my head for at least a half hour after each meeting.

(Did you click that last link? You really should have waited for me to warn you.)

The first week I lost nothing, the second week I lost a bit, the third week I either lost nothing or gained back the bit, but I’ll never know because I skipped that week; subequently this last week I either lost nothing or lost the same bit again. I have a feeling my weight loss is going to progress at about the same pace as an Apartment 3-G storyline, but, hey, it’s something. And I’ll keep you posted.

Warning! Penguin Plot Points REVEALED!

August 17, 2005 by Wendy

So we saw that penguin movie. I know how all this sounds, after not updating for two weeks: it sounds like I completely just slacked off this whole time and then went and saw the penguin movie, me and that whoever-it-is-I’m-totally-slacking-off-with-person, who, since I’m such a slacker, hasn’t even been introduced by his official privacy-protecting online nickname (which would be “Chris”), when the reality is that I had four articles to write, and I spent much of the past couple of weeks imagining my head was like a heroin’s addict’s arm, like something I had to repeatedly smack smack smack just to get a vein of coherent thought to come up.

And then came the nod, so to speak. And then it was time to see the penguin movie.
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Yet more excuses

June 5, 2005 by Wendy

There are two new entities in my life that have kept me from updating more lately. Both play songs on demand and both devote much of their existence to collecting huge encylopedic shitloads of recorded music. One is an iPod and one is a person. The iPod is a mini but the person is full size, and unlike an iPod, the person can probably be soaked in water, which I believe gives him somewhat of an advantage. That is all I will say for now. Please add these to the fifty-seven other reasons I have for not updating more.

Reason Fifty-Eight is that we went to the Body Worlds exhibit today and saw all kinds of freaky plastinated bodies all flayed out like meaty Transformers, as well as assorted parts and accessories. I never much wondered what male genitalia looked like without skin, but jeez, did I ever find out. (That link is totally safe for work, by the way, as are links to other things that came to mind). When I looked at even the most impressive bodies, the ones where the organs are arranaged in cunning Swiss Army formations, inevitably some thought like hey Nougat Nuts, put some pants on would cross my mind. I couldn’t help it. Maybe it’s because I used to go to the Museum of Science and Industry when I was a kid, so I associate the place with the train set and the Mold-A-Rama machine and other juvenile things.

We did not steal a fetus. But then, one of us couldn’t pass the cardiovascular display without shaking a fist and saying “Why, aorta…,” and really, that might be a crime as well.

On our way out of the exhibit we tried to go over to sign the guestbooks, but it was crowded, and half a dozen boys were pressed against the counter where the guestbooks were. We got just close enough to see one of the pages, which said, in big loopy print letters:

I saw a lot of balls today. And nipples.

How life-affirming is that, I ask you?

In other news, Leigh Anne and I were interviewed for Red Eye this past week, and it might run as the cover story on Tuesday, though I have no idea who or what will be on the cover. Nobody took my photo, so we can only hope that the cover will be Leigh Anne holding up a Hitachi you-know-what. We’ll have to wait and see.