me and my shadow

An inner dialogue:

Helloween candy is Satanic.

(Butterfingers have healing properties.)

I hate the way ingesting too much sugar makes me feel.

(Now really, how many calories are in a single M & M?)

My stomach is bigger than a basketball.

(I just got paid! Let's go gorge ourselves on sushi!)

Pot gives me the munchies. I just have to face it. Pot is not my weight loss friend. Even as a weekend warrior, it's no bueno, because then on the weekends, I'm consuming enough for three. Or four.

(Is it 4:20 somewhere?)

They say that consuming three eight-ounce glasses of milk a day can significantly help with weight loss.

(Surely a quarter cup of half-n-half counts as one eight-ounce glass of milk. And it's all in my coffee! Double bonus!)

If I exercise after every meal, I'll lose weight for sure!

(I am not obsessive. I am not obsessive. I am not obsessive.)

And so it goes.

Of course, now that me and Michelle Kwan are workout partners, I'll be at the gym daily! Well, okay, we're not really weight loss partners, but she and I did work out together--I mean, in the same vicinity--yesterday. It took me a minute to figure out where I "knew" her from...was it work? No, not work. I was definitely getting the TV vibe. Maybe she's on 9News; maybe she's Adelle Arakawa's love child. No...no...wait! I know! Put a red string around her neck, dress her in a skin tight 'tard and frilly mini-skirt and yes! It's Michelle Kwan!

I feel bad for her, though...there she is, hauling it on the elliptical, and this guy next to her is totally stopped on his machine, mid-stride, chattering away about some bullshit. She nods, provides the occasional, "mmmhmm" and tries to be polite, but I can tell that she's thinking "shut the fuck up You." How many times a day does she have to put up with this kind of privacy invasion? How often is she stopped while walking across the DU campus and asked some inane question about skating, or training, or the Olympics? Does she carry a Sharpie for autographs? Does she carry pepper spray? I bet she wishes that she had her pepper spray on her now so she could hold it up to the loser who won't stop talking and say, calmly, "Either you let me work out in peace or you're going to leave this place screaming."

(Ninja Kwan! I bow before thee.)