Lifestyle-ish

Relaunch

With this, I will slide into another of my hiatuses. Unlike the last one, which was fake (I merely shoveled in old, recycled material from decades earlier), this one is a real interruption, serving an actual professional purpose.

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Lifestyle-ish

The shoot

WhaI did not want a photoshoot. The fact that it was my idea is beside the point. That dang cabbage patch kid diet, or whatever it was called, was also my brilliant idea, but that doesn’t mean I had to like it, and I didn’t.

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Lifestyle-ish

Off the scale

For those of you keeping tabs, this will be the last blog that refuses to talk about my diet experience. It’s not because it was a dismal failure. It wasn’t. It wasn’t a rousing success either. What it was was that if I’d kept on it for a very long time, it would eventually put me at the weight I desired.

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Lifestyle-ish

Diet diary

As I’ve written, the worst people are the ones who can’t stop talking about how much weight they’ve lost with the latest diet fad. In a way, it’s like bragging about your body-mass index or your “good” cholesterol. Really, when did the subject of normal health maintenance become a “thing”?

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Lifestyle-ish

The five stages of diet grief

Dieting is like suffering any other kind of loss. It’s just to a much different degree. But make no mistake; there is grieving. And just like all grief, there are stages.

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Lifestyle-ish

Instawaist

W.C. Fields once returned to a bar following an evening of imbibing, and he asked the bartender, “Was I in here last night, and did I spend a 20 dollar bill?” When the bartender confirmed he had, Fields replied, “Good. I thought I’d lost it.”

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Lifestyle-ish

The barber of Chalmette

Of all the things Carol doesn’t understand about me (contained in her book, What Have I Gotten Myself Into, Vol. 1-,one that confounds even her broadest allowances for abnormal behavior is my attitude toward haircuts.

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Lifestyle-ish

House

The second house I lived in became a recurring and enduring nightmare long after we had moved. My first house was a row home in South Philly, which marked my brief Return to the City phase, back in the late 70s.

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Lifestyle-ish

Sundays

So it seems to have come down to this: pleasant evenings on our patio enjoying music and a glass, while watching two orb weaver spiders ply their evening artistry.

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Lifestyle-ish

A textbook life

My first major in college was Psychology. I didn’t make it past the first year. When we reached the chapter on psychological disorders, and I identified with every one of them, I came to the realization that I had declared me as a major. I went to college, so I could become someone other than me, not to make me my own life’s study.

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