I've been home for a week and a half after I was down in Southern California for an equal amount of time, and I still feel a bit off of my routine. That's not necessarily a bad thing, since my routine is far from optimal, but... it's mine!
I felt normal at the gym the last 2 nights, for the first time since my return. I've been going almost every day, but I've usually felt tired or weak on weights. Doing fewer reps than I was accustomed to, not feeling the energy to do a second (or third) cycle of the various machines, etc. I was fine on cardio, but hadn't felt in the mood to pick up heavy things. No idea what changed. Maybe I got a better grade of steroid?
One thing that I've been amused by at the gym is my attire. On nights that I wear a short sleeved shirt, I've been wearing one or both of the Starcraft 2 sweatbands that came in the
BlizzCon goodie bag. They work pretty well, actually. The wrist bands themselves, which are stretchy inside of very fuzzy towel-like material, and the act of wearing them. I don't think I've ever before worn wristbands in my life, and I'm not likely to go out and buy a bouquet of every color, but these two aren't bad. I drip sweat constantly while on the cardio machines (that's the whole point) and while I don't especially mind that fact, it can be annoying when beads of it swell in my eyebrows. And the wristbands are excellent for swiping them away. It's almost as if they were designed for just that purpose!
The funny thing about it, other than that I'm wearing Starcraft 2 wristbands at the gym, is that I might be the only person who attended Blizzcon who is actually using them for that purpose. The purpose for which they were designed. I base this conclusion on the fact that most people probably kept them in their goodie bag as a collectible, the fact that most people don't wear wristbands even when they do sweat (I'm that case in point), and the fact that I don't believe sweating, from exercise, is real high on the priorities list of your average Blizzcon attendee. The arm of the woman who's modeling the wristband in the above link is about average for the women (and men) at the event.
On that topic, I returned from Blizzcon with an altered sense of my own appearance. I work out and lift weights almost every day and I know I'm in good shape, but I'm doing those activities at a gym full of people in good shape. Not everyone is fit and lean and such, but a fair amount of people on the cardio machines are thin, and if I'm not there too late, there are always at least half a dozen guys in the weights area who are pretty built. I've never seen anyone who is even borderline body builder looking, since all the big guys are also fat, but there are plenty of guys in their early/mid 20s who are relatively thin and quite muscular. More muscular than me, anyway.
I don't mind; my goal isn't to get huge and it's not a contest. My point is that I don't usually think of myself as especially fit or built, since I see numerous guys every time I'm at the gym who are ahead of me on one, or both, categories. At Blizzcon... I was a body building triathlete. For a man, at least. To my surprise, there were quite a few women at the event who looked like they were in good shape. Or at least thin, and if they're in tight jeans that's just as good, as far as my eyes are concerned. What am I, a cardiologist?
Our IncGamers group secured a long table in the rear corner of the press room, (Pro: nearest the food. Con: furthest from the Diablo III machines.) and we enjoyed a commanding view of the entire room. That view wasn't much good, other than giving us ample opportunity to laugh at the man-titties on display, (tight t-shirts are not a fat guy's friend), but it did allow us (me) a good view of the Japanese and Korean journalists at the tables ahead of us. Most were skinny guys, but a considerable number were attractive, slim, fetchingly-attired 20 something females.. who spent nearly every minute hunched over their laptops, typing furiously. They had lovely, graceful necks, though. And graceful other things, swaying beneath faded Levis, as I happened to note on the few occasions I looked up to see one dashing off to an interview, or heading back to the buffet.
One bad thing about the ready supply of food and unlimited supply of drinks in the press room was that I got into some bad habits. Drinking real soda, for one.
Prior to my "vacation" I blogged about my attempted transition to diet soda, or at least away from the full sugar versions of Pepsi and Dr. Pepper that I've used to wash down countless unhealthy meals of fried food. I never just sit and drink a soda, but I am conditioned to like/want/need the sugar water with fried food, pizza, nachos, etc. I can tolerate water, or enjoy beer or wine with some of those entrees, but I really like soda. I don't like the 150 empty calories per can though, so last month I tried out Diet Pepsi and Diet Coke and Coke Zero, found the Diet Pepsi least offensive, and bought a case of it at Costco.
That case went down pretty okay; the caffeine worked as intended, and the beverages were palatable, if not actually good, with the foods I like soda with. I was getting sick of the chemically, fizz-lacking stuff towards the end though, and it was only after some internal debate that I bought a second case, in early October. That case looks like it will stay with me, herpes-like, for quite some time, since I've had 2 Diet Pepsis in the week+ since I've been back, and I didn't enjoy either, didn't finish either, and generally wished I hadn't despoiled a quality mood with both.
This isn't entirely unplanned or desired. My ultimate goal is to stop drinking soda, and diet soda does two things to enable that result: saves me calories when I do drink it, and tastes lame enough that I'm unlikely to drink it very often.
Prior to my SD/Anaheim trip, I'd found that Diet Pepsi was better with a splash (about a half shot) of vodka. It didn't exactly enhance the palate, but it did largely counteract the chemical aspartame taste that's the price we pay for saving 150 calories per can. I tried that in my first can upon my return, and it no longer seemed to help. Curiously, vodka absolutely kills the bubbles, somehow counteracting the carbonation. I could judge the right amount of vodka in real Pepsi, to which I added it for taste/variety, since I poured the vodka into a glass about half full of Pepsi on the rocks, and stopped when the fizzing was neutralized. I'd then pour the rest of the Pepsi in and have an enjoyable, buzz-inducing, poor man's speedball experience. The same trick doesn't work with Diet Pepsi, since the lack of real sugar does something to the carbonation. As a result, a mere splash can instantly de-fizz an entire glassful. So it's no bubbles vs. less aspartame taste, without enough booze to give a pleasant buzz. Or the first two and not the third, when the products are mixed inexpertly.
Displeased by the soda experience, I didn't have any for the first few days of this week. I wanted real soda, and the urge for a well-chilled plastic tanker of the stuff was tempting me towards fast food. I resisted over the weekend, but last night I couldn't stand it, and stopped by Jack in the Box on the way home from the gym. The spicy chicken sandwich was as non-spicy and lame as usual, but the curly fries were glorious, and the bucket of Dr. Pepper was divine. I could almost still taste it the next day. Sadly I could still taste the greasy, slimy phlegm that meal always leaves in my mouth, even though I'd eaten an apple, brushed my teeth, and used mouthwash afterwards.
The memory of the cola joy stayed with me today, and when I had to stop by the store late at night to get a nearly overdue birthday card, I found myself wandering down the soda aisle, picking up a six pack of 24oz Dr. Pepper bottles, and walking off with them, just as though I were allowed to consume such things.
When talking to Malaya about my diet soda efforts last month, she verbalized a thought I'd had on several occasions. "It's not worth it. Have a real soda once in a while instead of diet crap every day."
I agreed in principle, but I wasn't yet sick enough of the diet sodas to give them up. I still ain't, but the urge to drink = falling. The urge to drink real soda = constant, but I've got a plan, now.
Cans aren't good to help cut down consumption. They're so small that it seems nothing to pop one open, and they come in such a huge block from Costco that it seems inexhaustible, and they're so cheap that the expense is negligible. Having just six Dr. Peppers, in larger size bottles, is different. I won't open one just to go with a regular meal, since I'd never drink all 24oz at once. So they become sort of special occasion treats, and I can endure not drinking sugarwater, knowing I've got real sugarwater in the fridge, if I get a real craving. It's also handy that those plastic bottles preserve the fizz only slightly longer than an open can. So I know I can't open one unless I'm going to drink the whole thing right then, or at least will finish it later that day
It's a good thing I've never gotten into real drugs, given the difficulty I have, and time I take, just to semi-quit soda.
I want a second cat. The IG, who really, really needs a new nickname, since we've moved solidly into friends now, and aren't even bothering to flirt anymore (though I must admit to occasional impure thoughts prompted by the tight, size zero jeans that are her usual attire), just moved into her own tiny apartment. She's not supposed to have any pets, but she misses the cat she had at her parents' house, and she's never lived alone before, and she's got a soft spot for ferals and strays who are going to be euthanized if no one loves them. So she took me to the pound with her earlier this week, we toured through the cat storage area, and petted many a kitty. So many were so friendly!
The IG wasn't sure if she was going to get one, but she really liked several of the animals, especially one huge black/white beast who was in the feral room, and was supposed to be troublesome. The old lady volunteer said that he's actually very nice, but that he just doesn't like men. Very often. To her surprise and my non-surprise, he liked me just fine. (I don't have any special affinity for or interest in dogs, but I can almost always befriend felines.) I stayed back while the IG made his acquaintance, and when I slowly eased in after she'd been petting him for a few minutes, he looked at me, sniffed me when I was close, and submitted happily to head scratching. He was soon
disabled!
I, of course, think that a huge cat that doesn't like men is a perfect pet for the IG. She can has furry chastity belt? I don't seem to need a cat to help me remain chaste, and I don't think a second cat would help change that fact (and might help reinforce it), but I still sorta want one. I think Jinx would enjoy it, since she's usually interested in playing more often than I'm interested in getting up and playing with her. She always wanted more to be friends with Dusty than he wanted with her, and I think she'd adjust to a new cat alright. I'd just have to get one that was active, playful, not yowly, not a picky eater, liked crunchies, and that got along well with other cats.
Best case scenario is that Jinx accepts the other cat fairly quickly, they sleep together and are snuggly with me on cold nights, the other cat is relatively quiet and not destructive, they play and interact in amusing fashion, but don't do it constantly, and that my landlord don't find out/care that I've added a second cat when my lease agreement only allows for one.
Worst case is not to be contemplated, since it would involve mutual feline insanity, them both running out into the street and becoming furry pancakes/coyote bait, etc. On a more realistic level, the new cat could be noisy or restless at night, a picky eater, the two cats could spur each other to disturbing hyperactivity, it might create a change in Jinx's behavior so I'd go from 1 nice cat to 2 dildo kitties, etc.
I'm not making any serious plans in the short term, but I'll probably go with the IG to pick up her cat sometime next week, and if I really enjoy interacting with it and keep thinking about the potential enjoyment of having two of them instead of just Jinx, I might pursue the issue further.
And yes, there have been a few jokes made about the IG's new pussy, her wanting to get a used pussy, me going to help her pick out a new pussy, the risks of her pussy liking my touch more than her own, etc. Fortunately I'm not 19 anymore, so I'm able to control my urge to make such jokes. Plus I realize that she, like all women, finds them about 1/1000th as funny as a man does. Happily, she's good natured enough to tolerate them in good spirits.
I had something else I was going to talk about, but eh, this is long enough. Maybe I'll babble about BlizzCon later this weekend, if the blogging urge strikes again.
Labels: cats, diet, fitness, the I.G.
