I can’t believe it’s not budder.

January 7, 2007

Something weird is happening. I’m writing things in odd ways. For example, “wonce” instead of “once.” Is it because I’ve been reading a lot of Eben’s “dedly” writing?

Or could it be…a brain tumor? No, no. Let’s talk about something else.

In other news, I just found out that a little pat of butter contains 100 calories! 100 calories!!! Pass the crack, I think it’s better for me.

When I smoked, the most precious time for me and my little nics was in the morning, over coffee. That was all I had for breakfast. I know, I know…ew. But who hasn’t been in a bad relationship? 

Since I’ve given up cigarettes, I’ve taken up breakfast and what I’ve really come to enjoy is a bagel with butter that I dunked in my sweet, oh so sweet, coffee. It was great! Simple pleasures, right? Yeah, me and Paris Hilton.

But now I just discovered that my little ritual is costing me 400-500 calories, not counting (why was I just suddenly convinced that the word counting had an apostrophe in it? I’m dying.) the calories in the massive amounts of sugar I put in my coffee. This means, God’s children, that all of my exercising…my sweat, my toil…doesn’t even undo the damage I’ve done eating a breakfast I wasn’t even hungry for in the first place! How did I miss this butter thing? During my short stint modelling, I had an anorexic’s awareness of calories, but I don’t remember this butter nightmare. I must have avoided butter altogether.

So I’m getting fat on butter-saturated crumbs. Meanwhile, I have two runner friends who seem to be able to put anything into their perfectly sculpted faces and it turns into beautiful, marble-like flesh, whereas I put rice cakes in my maw only to have it turn into marshmallow fluff on my thighs.

I hate runners, I hate the butter industry, I hate mornings.

 I still like coffee though, and I’m working really hard to convince myself that some Pollander’s Allfruit is just the yummy goodness I need to greet the day.

Oh, PS- My neck is better! Yay me!!


A chalk outline of my plan for today

January 5, 2007

I’ve got something important to do today and it involves chalk.

Most of you know that I’ve been running/walking/riding on the bike trail from Eastham to Orleans pretty much every day. For those of you that don’t know, the bike trail is really popular with exercisers (OUT SATAN) as well as dog-walkers and rubber-neckers. Some use it simply as a highway into Orleans that doesn’t involve (too much) car exhaust.

I like to use the trail for exercise and dog-walking, and I’m pretty damn good about making sure that my dog’s poo is picked up from the trail, even though all of my dogs go off of the path to do their bidness. I do this not because I think someone’s going to veer off the paved path and into my dog’s puddin’. I don’t do this because it’s fun carrying around a “poo-purse” for the duration of my jaunt.

I do this because if I don’t, and other dog owners don’t, then it is likely that we will lose our privilidge of walking our dogs there, and frankly, in the tourist season there just aren’t enough cool places to do that.  If everyone thinks they’re the exception to the rule then there is no rule and the trail is covered in shiite, end o’ story.

Except it’s not the end of the story!

Yesterday I was riding my bike at high speed and I saw a gaggle of geese flying towards me. Loudly. So I looked up and over at them and when I looked back at the road….HORSE SHIT!! A huge ant-hill pile of horse crap in the MIDDLE of the path.

So I veered wildly, almost losing my balance. Had I fallen, I would have likely landed  in the poo as well as seriously injuring myself despite the obvious cushioning effect that horse dung undoubtedly has.

So, Grr.

For the past week or so I’ve been noticing horse poo on the bike trail. At first one pile…then a couple….but now this ass is really letting it fly.

It. Pissed. Me. Off.

A total of 5 (!) piles of excrement in my 7 mile ride, all of them within the two middle miles. So I rode for a long time trying to figure out how to alert this stupid horse rider that I, um, don’t like him/her. I envisioned me riding 3 miles in with a big wooden sign and hammer hooked on my back but that didn’t seem feasible as I keep dropping my cell phone, let alone a big piece of wood.

Then it occurred to me: CHALK! No need to fear vandalism charges, and it’s so lightweight! Yay me.

So I asked George to pick up some colored sidewalk chalk at the store for me and he said, “Colored?” and I said,  “Yes–the brighter the better.” This may be the one time that pink would be good for me. 

So he came home with white and I said, “Didn’t they have colored chalk?” And he said, “Oh, did you want colored chalk?” Sigh.


My plan for today is to ride into the heart of Mr. Ed’s territory and, in two directions, scrawl this:


Why do I have to clean up after my 30 pound dog yet you don’t have to clean up after your 1 ton horse?

Get a drop bag or a shovel.

If I see you here without one of those things, I will throw your horse’s poo at your face.

Remember, if the poo is not there, I won’t be able to throw it. 

Have a nice day.

There are circumstances that have added to my bitchiness lately, yes. But I’ve really gotten tired of taking people’s shit. Ha. Really, no pun intended.