wash, rinse, repeat

Today is the 597 katrillionth day that I have woken up and started or restarted a diet. I invoke sleater-kinney *yet again* when I say that "I think that I sometimes must have wished for something more than to be a size 6." And that's not actually my goal, but I can't help but thinking that if I were a person who gave not a shit about what I looked like and somehow harnessed that energy into something else, I would be like, a proficient violinist, or a person who helps regularly at a soup kitchen, or working on my 10th novel. There is also the off chance that i would have spent all that time watching television. So, who knows? pootooweet!

Speaking of resolutions made and broken, I resolved to restart my new year this week. Ergo, I made tonight's dinner! (that's one meal a week). A spinach, feta, and onion egg white frittata. My mother liked it so much that she wanted me to make more on the spot. And I am now exercising as I blog. The first day of the rest of my life is always full of these little victories. I wonder if I could ever fool myself into thinking every day was the fresh start to my life. The majority of me is an Irish, Scottish, and German red-cheeked santa clause of a genetic optimist, but I think the often jolly, yet, in an instant, also extremely depressed, Irish strain of my blood(i think those are the southerners) can't stomach that kind of cheese.

I am listening to the slumdog millionaire soundtrack. Highly worthwhile--doing Bollywood dances on the elliptical machine. lots of shoulder movement.

This morning I found my Verve CD, Urban Hymns. A CD I have bought 3 times. Football season is over. It called for a playing of Bittersweet Symphony. The Super Bowl this year was fantastic. But I do feel like I have a new lease on Sunday afternoons. Anyone want to walk around Lake Murray?