I'm Scaring Myself

I have been researching and writing and reading and writing and looking and writing for my Little Bits of History, Volume 3 for almost eleven months. I know this because when I put in the references formatted at Wikipedia, they come with a date and time stamp. I started volume three on October 30, 2007.

I finished up the researching, topic finding, and Monday, Wednesday, Friday writing last week. I edited the months of November and December. I shortened the essays and selected which quotes were to go to RGQ. I put all that into Dreamweaver and then sent off the various things to the people I need to send things to. I'm officially finished with the year.

Now I can start on the Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday essays. I was waiting for a new week and going to begin. Instead, last evening I was too energized to just watch television or play computer games. I began writing up the intervening essays.

I wrote two more this morning and will continue to write more this afternoon. After I finish this. I have so much energy and so much drive. If I can get this finished, I can get on to another project. Maybe fiction, maybe humorous essays.

I know part of this is just the euphoria of finishing up part of the project. But part of it, I believe, is from being physically active. No matter what its origins, the feeling of being excited about anything is wonderful.

I need to look into learning how to write fiction with a lighter hand. Apparently, my style isn't what publishers are looking for in today's market. They want story-tellers to not tell the story. We are supposed to "show" the story. I'm told if I show it, I will improve my writing and marketability. I don't know if I will improve the writing. I'm not all that impressed by the whole show mentality. But I do want to be published.

When I asked about this at MWC, someone scoffed at the novels of only 50,000 words, saying that isn't enough to show a story. It probably isn't. It was enough, however, for Rex Stout to tell me a story. And Nicholas Blake, and Peter Ellis, and Anne Perry. Even Sue Grafton, before she got too far into the alphabet and became unreadable.

That's my whole issue. The stories on the market today aren't any more complex than these older writers. They are just packaged in 70,000-80,000 words or more. They are still 200 page stories wrapped up in 375 page books.

I need to see if this is the only way to write in today's market. I need to find out if babbling about, eschewing adverbs and even adjectives while trying to describe something easily summed up with the appropriate modifier, is really the way to write today. Maybe that has something to do with the print on demand market.

But first, I have to finish Little Bits of History, Volume 3, and get it ready to see print as Volume 1. Print is good.

I Can't Believe I Missed It

I've been doing this exercise thing on and off my entire life. Really. I called it other things years ago, but it was exercise. When I was a kid, I was outside riding my bike, jumping off the boathouse roof, or playing Man from U.N.C.L.E. with Marcia.

I didn't play sports in high school, but I was in the band, the marching band. I carried a tuba I never did learn how to play. I played both clarinet and flute in concert band, but for marching around, I opted to carry a fiberglass tuba and not have to wear a hat and ruin my hair.

After high school, I went on to college and took my requisite physical education classes. I kept getting jobs that were physically more than sitting at a desk. I graduated from nursing school and my job became far more physical.

At the age of 27 I took up racquetball. I not only played the game now and then, I really took up the sport. I was eventually playing 9-12 hours per week. Admittedly, part of the time was recuperating between games. But I was at the gym and playing at a game that required both dexterous movement and powerful forehand backhand hits, but also caused me to build up quite a muscular frame.

Something happened after the last move back to Elyria. First, no racquetball and with it the loss of muscle tone and cardiac stamina. I then quit nursing and got jobs that entailed sitting. I went back to college and sat some more. I then taught for three years and was on my feet again. But it isn't the same as a workout.

After the move to South Carolina I became not only sedentary, but stationary. I sat at home, I got a job sitting at work. I quit that and sat at home some more. I've tried Curves for a while and water aerobics for a while. Both were fine, but stultifying and time constrained. The Curves place was only 15 minutes away, so I spent an hour (15 there, 30 exercising, 15 home) or twice the time needed. Water aerobics lasted an hour, but the place was 30 minutes away. Same problem, but it was also a scheduled class.

I've done nothing for over a year. Well, exercise-wise. I've gained weight. I've felt sluggish. I've gotten more and more depressed the more weight I've gained and the more sluggish I've become. Something had to change. I needed to be active again.

I got the elliptical knowing I'm so cheap I will use it only because I can't stand to waste that much money. I forced myself on the machine six days in a row and then consulted my personal trainer, AKA my son. He sent me a four week workout program. I've followed it.

Monday and Tuesday I did 20 minutes and then Wednesday I took off. Now, here is the scary part. I stayed up late Tuesday night and didn't go to bed until 2 AM Wednesday morning. I woke up late and reveled in the thought that I didn't need to exercise. It was a scheduled day off and I could immediately get to my e-mail. No postponing, no sweating. Just languishing around.

It was awful. I ate more yesterday, especially more junk food than I have been eating since the exercise equipment darkened my door. I was more restless yesterday. I didn't write as much yesterday. I paced more yesterday. It wasn't my best day.

Today I got up late again because I was up late again last night taking care of issues on the forum where I moderate. I got up, had one cup of coffee sitting on the porch. Then I got up on the elliptical and did my 25 minutes as Craig said I should. I then read my e-mail – nothing important there and the forum stayed quiet after I went to bed. I have written more today, eaten less, and feel better.

I can't believe I'm going to say this, but: I missed exercising.

Still Not Skinny!

I wish it was that instantaneous. Getting fat wasn't that quickly accomplished, so I need to practice patience. And fortitude.

That's the part I wish to briefly discuss. Fortitude. My exercise machine arrived on Tuesday and I have used it every day since. I barely got through Tuesday. I was pushing the thing too fast. That was stupid, but I'm a novice at this.

On Wednesday I was smarter. I put my book on CD on and still burned calories and still went at a reasonable pace, but my heart didn't try to leap out of my chest and run for cover hiding in the bag of potato chips. I burned about 10 fewer calories and felt much better.

Wednesday evening I finished my book on CD. Oh no. An excuse. My plan was to listen to books while I exercised and I had no book to listen to. I searched for an escape clause and smiled slyly.

Thursday I got a CD of 1960s songs and fired up the elliptical and did my 15 minutes getting about the same results as Wednesday but not as easily. I can keep up a steady pace and not kill myself when listening to books, but when exercising to music, I tend to go at the pace of whatever beat is playing on the CD. This turned out to be problematical.

Friday I volunteer at the hospital. Ah ha. Another excuse. Poring over my escape clause manual, I found it right there. Working and exercising. Tough it out, you weenie. So I set my alarm early enough to be able to get my fat ass up on the elliptical prior to going into the hospital.

And now, the conundrum. What am I supposed to do with Saturday? Do I need to exercise on the weekends? Do I only take Sunday off? I AM taking Sunday off. There was never any question about that. But I didn't know what to do about Saturday. Is this an escape clause thing? Was I 'supposed' to exercise today or not?

I have no idea what my plan is. I have no plan so I have no idea what it is supposed to even look like. So instead of letting myself get a day off, I got back up on the elliptical, again with a book on CD. I really need to keep a stock of these on hand. I have a much easier time not competing with a beat. I did my 15 minutes.

Now, all I need is a plan. I have two different sets of goals for next week. I have no idea which set to go with. I need a personal trainer.

My Pants Aren't Getting Any Looser

I've been wearing stretch pants or too tight pants all year. This past spring, in an effort to burn calories, I attempted to roller blade. This is not a good thing for an old coot who has no sense of balance.

The emergency room bill and the doctors' bills are all finally paid. I'm about 99% better with a twinge in my arm when I move the wrong way. If I knew exactly what the wrong way was, I would stop moving like that. But I don't and so every once in a while, I'm struck with a sharp pain and thereby reminded that I can be incredibly stupid.

I had an outfit all selected to wear to my daughter-in-law's wedding shower. But I didn't wear it. It was too tight. I might have squeezed into it, but there was no way I could drive to Hilton Head and back while my pants cut off my circulation and made me miserable. So I wore something else. Something looser. Something that fit my fat ass.

I love my clothes. I have so many really nice clothes. And darling outfits. And accessories that match. Closets and dressers full of clothes. And I can fit in fewer than 10 pairs of pants. I realize that is more than some people own in total. But I have many, many more pairs. I have around 30 pairs of Capri pants alone.

I either need to get my butt back to the size of my pants, or I need to surrender to the advance of both old age and laziness. For it is laziness that is the problem. I used to be far more active. I burn next to no calories moving my fingers across the keyboard. And I spend hours and hours each day doing just that. And then eating.

By the end of the day, I'm so edgy from my self-imposed lack of movement that I can't sit still. But I have no place to expend the pent up energy. When I take my dog for a walk, she reminds me that she is no longer young and has legs approximately one-twelfth as long as mine and must run just so I can mosey. When I want to really walk at a fair clip, she is panting like a lizard on a hot rock before we get home.

I wanted to burn up some energy. I like to pretend I can ride my bike. But I have a list of excuses.
1. It is trapped in the garage.
2. It is hot and muggy.
3. The new road means far more traffic and it is no longer as safe.
4. I'm too lazy to get my fat butt on the cushioned seat.

So that wasn't working for me. Next brilliant idea. Get a treadmill. I called my son, the exercise guru and/or nut, depending on your outlook. But he was busy out in the world. Who knew that could happen? So I called my sister who miraculously was at home. She suggested an elliptical machine instead of a treadmill. We discussed advantages and each of us clicked through options online while we talked so she could point out various options that would mean something to me.

By the time my son called back, I was talking about buying an elliptical machine for the house. When I asked him if he thought it was stupid, he pointed out that it was not nearly as dumb as an AARP card holder buying roller blades for the first time and then trying them out without pads. Point made.

So I have been in a race with the Baby Sister over who could get an elliptical in the house first. I purchased mine on Saturday but was willing to pay someone to lug the 288 pound machine into my house and set it up for me. I figured the dog didn't deserve to have us put it together.

I got a call this morning and while on the phone, the call waiting was ringing, but I needed to finish the call I was on. When I got done, my cell phone was ringing and there was Baby Sister bragging that she had just finished a 30 minute workout on her in home elliptical machine. The one she purchased the night before, brought home with her, and put together herself.

The phone call I was on was the guy coming to my house to put the elliptical together. He was coming this afternoon. He showed up at about 2.45 and left about 3.20 with the entire machine set up. It took my sister about 2 hours to build hers. There were two guys here and they never swore. So it was worth it to me to have them build it for me.

Craig said to start out slow and gradually increase my workout. I didn't attempt a 30 minute workout. Good thing. I tried 15 minutes. I made it, but it wasn't easy. However, I'm looking forward to the next time. There are all sorts of preset things on this machine. I can do a workout for calorie burning or for my heart health. Or I can just enjoy not falling down and nearly killing myself.

Ways to Spend Time

I have lots of time and I need to figure out better ways to spend it. I currently spend an inordinate amount of time playing silly computer games. Hours. And hours. I would never have had this amount of time to waste when I was younger. Mostly because back then I spent an inordinate amount of time playing racquetball.

I spent about 9-10 hours per week at the YMCA where I played the sport and it took about 30 minutes each way, for another three hours per week in travel time. That's 13 hours per week on one activity. I think I spend more time than that right now playing computer games.

I also used to work. I wanted to work 3 eight hour days and actually had to fight to stop being assigned 4 eight hours days. I figured out a way to work 3 six hour days which was the best. I didn't have to work through an unpaid meal break which automatically shortened the day by 30 minutes. So instead of over 9 hours per working day at work, I was only gone slightly more than 6.5 hours per day. That accounted, when I finally got it working for me, for about 20 hours a week wasted on working.

I read a lot of books back then. Some of the medication for my migraines made reading long and in-depth books less appealing. Even so, I never gave up reading even when taking the most disruptive drugs. I also did crossword puzzles. Lots of those.

I no longer play racquetball or work. I've looked into both propositions and neither is working for me at this present location. I still read and do occasional crossword puzzles. What I do is waste way too much time on silly things on the computer. I can actually get upset and have a hard time sleeping because I've been debating (okay, arguing) with people online. People who I have never met and never intend to meet. They have no sway over my real-time life. And I waste all this time and energy with them.

Instead, what I should (isn't that a horrible word – should?) be doing is working on a diet and exercise regimen that will help me lose 15-20 pounds so I can not only fit in my clothes again, but feel better about myself and my health. I should push away from the keyboard and hop on my bike and ride for an hour a day. The weather is no longer stultifying and it would be good for me both physically and mentally. Probably spiritually, too.

I could spend some time that I waste clicking on things here at the computer looking up some healthy recipes. I have chicken, pork, beef, and fish just waiting to be cooked up in some delicious ways. Instead, I will eat potato chips in the late afternoon and then not really be hungry and so slap some food together and call it dinner. But I could and should really change that.

I've been reading fewer books than in past years. I'm not sure why. I think I'm too restless to sit still long enough to really read something. Mostly because I'm too often sitting in front of my computer and when I move to a different room, I'm too tired of sitting all day. So I don't sit still and read. I can't seem to sit still unless I'm in front of the computer.

The computer – that seems to be a central theme to my problems. I could maybe force myself to turn it off, but I actually do write after researching history stuff right here on the computer. I just spend too much time in inconsequential, mind-dulling pursuits. I need a better way to spend my time. It's precious and once it's gone, it's gone.

Is This Supposed to Help?

I use my computer and its high speed Internet access in really crappy ways. I do not use it for anything even remotely for what it was built for. I don't do any wonderful gaming (although I play lots of stupid little games) nor do I create movies or make music or do any of the myriad things Bill Gates likes to think I might want to do with a computer.

I do a lot of word processing. Mostly what I do is word processing. I then copy and paste that into my web page maker and post some of it on the web. I play a few really simple games (game size rarely exceeds 50 MB so you know they aren't all that wonderful). And I read stuff on the web.

That last part is getting more and more annoying. I've always been curious about other people's lives. I don't know if everyone is a voyeur like this, but I always have been. I guess it is controlled gossip. Even as a kid, I read Dear Abby in the family newspaper, along with the comics. There really isn't much else in a newspaper for a kid.

With the Internet, I can read Dear Abby and Annie's Mailbox online. Great. This is twice the gossip. Annie's Mailbox's hosting site started with the pop-under ads a long time ago. They are annoying. They take your focus away from the web page you are viewing and when you try to scroll nothing happens. I know how to right-click on the second IE page on my taskbar and click Close on it and basically ignore it. But it is a pain.

Dear Abby threw in a couple of these this past week. I hate these things. I would never, ever, not ever click on one. It only encourages the people making my online experience annoying. I understand revenue streams. I even click on the occasional ad embedded in the pages. I hate these new windows.

I began using Webshots when the whole thing was free. Then they went to a paid subscription and I can only get some of the pictures, and so many folders, and the most I can download is five pictures per day. Unless I pay. I don't pay. I have almost 4,000 pictures to scroll through for my desktop and screensaver. That is enough. They have, however, started a new ad campaign that is horrible. It plays a darling little movie instead of giving me the picture I clicked on. I can either reload the page or click Close on the movie. I would never, ever, not ever click on the ad or use any service that couldn't figure out how to be less intrusive. People stuck with dial-up are more than annoyed, since this large download literally makes it impossible for them.

I know I'm not a very good consumer. I buy groceries. More than I really need, even. But that doesn't help boost the economy so much. I don't online shop. I don't have a PayPal account. I don't have an eBay account, or an Amazon account. I don't watch television so I'm not pressured to buy a lot of crap I don't need for 8 minutes out of each half hour.

I have a house and car. I've got two closets and three dressers full of clothes and shoes. My computer still works and my office is stuffed with candles and paper. And as I mentioned above, I buy groceries. There really isn't anything I need. And to annoy me to the ends of the earth is no way to induce me to buy it. Or use it. Or whatever it is they hope to gain with ads. I really don't know what the goal is, as I never read them. I click Go Away Scumbag and then get on with my perusing the page I opened. All by myself. Without pop-ups or pop-unders.

If everyone was like-minded, if everyone simply ignored them, they would go away. But someone, somewhere, is clicking on them. I hope the afterlife is full of mouse click after mouse click after mouse click after …

Anyway, I hope those morons get what they so richly deserve. They probably buy from telemarketers, too.

The Wedding

The big party weekend is past and I'm recovered, or as much as can be expected considering my age and the circumstances.

We arrived in Hilton Head on Thursday and met with Barb, Bill, Ruth, Tom and Bobbi, and Jim. We went out to dinner and had a lovely evening. The old people were all tired, but those in their 20s just love to push the envelope. And they pushed in a bad part of town.

Jim got in around 3 AM, sorta. His brother got him to the room door, but couldn't quite manage to get him into the room. This woke the mother, who was not amused. The father, like all fathers around the world, pretended to sleep through the fracas. All we knew in the morning was that Jim got home late and with only one shoe. We later found out the baby brother lost both shoes.

We met at Joe and Sarah's house and then separated. The kids were going parasailing. We worked around the house and got things in order for the Rehearsal Dinner that was happening that night, sans rehearsal. Erin had to get back to the house and work on the wedding cake. Really, she had to start making the wedding cake.

We were at Wal-Mart around noon to get the beer and wine and paper products for the party that night. We ran into Erin and Aunt Leslie. Shopping.

We got everything on the list that could be gotten at Wal-Mart. I thought it was a super Wal-Mart, but it wasn't. We went to the grocery store to pick up all the things we needed there. Dick waited for them to slice – s-l-o-w-l-y slice up some lunch meat while I did the rest of the shopping. We got home just in time for Mitch, Joe, Aiden, and Dylan to throw together a sandwich and take off for the boat.

Matt had said the kids could come since it wasn't a regular parasailing trip, but a special outing for the groom and his friends. Aiden was going to draw me a map of all they saw. They were going to see sharks and monsters. I got no map. Instead, Aiden went up into the sky with his Dad and they parasailed together. How fun is that?

Next we were ready for the party. We picked up ten pizzas from Fat Baby and got to spend a few hours of calm before the storm. We got back to the hotel and tossed and turned in anticipation of the big day.

We got the Plantation House decorated and it looked beautiful. The chairs were set up outdoors for an outside wedding. The fountain in the pond splashed, fish jumped, flowers bloomed and the whole wedding was beautiful.

The Bride and Groom were lovely. Their children were adorable. The guests were celebratory. The whole thing was freaking exhausting. But lovely.

We got the place cleaned up and the kids returned to their house by 9.30. Walking up to the house, Aiden proclaimed, "That was the BEST party." You really can't get a better approval rating.

We headed back to the hotel. Tired, but happy. We are now officially in laws. We met all the other Hysell/Blush folks for breakfast and then got our belongings and the dog and headed back home.

The Bride and Groom finally could relax. As Sarah said, "I have my life back." All the work and planning, the sweat, worry, and toil, were worth it. It really was the BEST party.