Thursday, Nov. 18, 2004
Dear Diary:

People who know me just accept my eccentricity as part of the package, but for strangers there are times when I can be a bit alarming as in, "Obviously she's crazy—do you think she's violent?"

I had one of those moments yesterday at the gym.

First off, I feel completely justified in putting part of the blame for what happened on the current issue of the New Yorker magazine. There's a cartoon in it depicting a tee vee chef wielding a large, blood soaked knife in a stabbing motion down towards something we can't see behind his kitchen counters. The chef has turned to his studio audience and to them he says:

"Once the animal has been rendered lifeless, the rest is quite simple."

I find this particularly hilarious because I am a devoted fan of the glorious Japanese cooking show Iron Chef. Who amongst us does not cherish the Battle Squid episode, the episode during which one of the chefs was actually bitten by his squid, a squid he had to kill on camera? Seeing food wound the chef is not a commonplace occurrence on the Food Network.

I think once all this is taken into account, that clearly we can all agree that along with the New Yorker magazine, the tee vee show Iron Chef should shoulder part of the blame here and since it's a Japanese show, let's further extend the blame to the whole nation of Japan. Why?

Just because we can.

So where was I? Oh yes, "Once the animal has been rendered lifeless, the rest is quite simple."

As part of my renewed commitment to my Marn, Warrior Princess workout, I've begun drinking my soy protein drink again. This is a sacrifice of tremendous proportions since I can barely choke down the chalky horror, but I know that without the extra protein I won't build muscle efficiently.

So every day I go to the gym I arrive with my small clear sippy bottle with a vaguely pink powder in the bottom, the soy protein concentrate. After I've done the cardio portion of my workout I add some cold water to the protein powder (which I have lovingly christened my Sports Sludge) and shake it up in preparation for drinking.

From time to time some of the powder at the very bottom of the container does not automatically dissolve in the water. I've found that if I thwap the sippy bottle on a hard object, I can jar the semi-congealed Sports Sludge powder loose from the bottom of the bottle and with vigorous shaking dissolve it.

Yesterday was one of those days.

So there I was vigorously thwapping the sippy bottle o' sports sludge against a convenient chair when I noticed that two zygote aged women over in the cardio section were watching me intently with wide eyes.

Clearly they were vaguely alarmed by the sight of a very tall, sweaty, white-haired woman thwapping a bottle of odd looking pink stuff repeatedly against a chair. To reassure them, I said:

"Once the sludge has been rendered lifeless, the rest is quite simple."

I like to think that to someone who has just perused the latest issue of the New Yorker and is a devoted fan of the tee vee show Iron Chef those words were Pure Comedy Gold. However, from the expressions on the face of the two young women who had obviously not yet picked up the latest issue of the New Yorker and had somehow missed the Battle Squid episode of Iron Chef …

Not so funny.

If anything, it became apparent from their expressions that I now appeared even less sane to them than before, which is quite a feat to accomplish with a mere dozen words, when you think about it.

There was a moment when I considered whether or not I should explain the allusion, torture them (as I have tortured my three loyal readers) with an explanation of the cartoon, the tee vee show. Too Much Work.

So I just shrugged and muttered something about how the drink wasn't mixing well and wandered off back to the free weights. Gyms are mirrored so I could see them behind me exchanging one of those, "Man, that woman is NUTS" looks. *Sigh*.

I used to think that when I got older things would get simpler, life would smooth off my rough edges. Instead? Time's just making me quirkier, odder, more eccentric.

Oh well, at least I'm not violent, eh?


Mileage on the Marnometer: 858.82 miles.
Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.25 per cent thereTen percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.Ten percent there rubber duck.25 per cent thereTen percent there rubber duck.
Oh man. This is going to be hard
Goal for 2004: 1,000 miles - 1609 kilometers

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