four square

You know how a while ago my work wasn't going that well? I thought it was getting better, but then it got worse. I know you were waiting with bated breath for my next installment of Chicago pictures, but, well, you're just going to have to wait a bit longer while I freak out.

This week I finally started exercising, in a very small way - after-work walks with friends. Today Chatty and I took a walk that included the playground of my elementary school! We came at it from another direction and I didn't realize where we were until we were halfway across the field. I hadn't been there since June 1987.


Still the same four square court, although it's probably been repainted in the last 21 years. Wasn't four square the best game? Now I kind of want to buy a red playground ball.

waste

You know what I hate? Over-air-conditioned buildings. It always drove me crazy at my former employer. I had to wear a sweater in my office all summer. On a day when it's 90 degrees outside, I think I should be able to dress for 90 degree weather, dang it. Ok, I don't actually want it to be 90 degrees inside, but I think we could certainly survive in the upper 70s. If the personal discomfort of a freezing building weren't enough, the waste of energy (and money) is just ridiculous.

I thought things might be better at my new employer, which has this whole green building certification thing they're working on. They do turn the AC off on the weekends, I discovered when I went in there one day to check my e-mail. But on weekdays, it's cold enough to make me put on my down vest. (All part of my carefully constructed professional look. Sigh.)

Little instances of waste have really started to annoy me. For the last few years, I've stockpiled plastic bottles at work so I could carry them home to recycle them. I'm taking the stairs now at work instead of the elevator, partly because a lot of pants that I remember wearing a few years ago don't fit anymore, and partly because it seems like such a waste to run an elevator just to lift one person. (I work on the 7th floor, so I don't know how long I'm going to be able to keep this up, but I'm giving it a shot.) The other day after lunch I carried my paper bag (and N.Lu's) from the empanadas place back to work so I could put it in the paper bin.

These little things seem kind of dopey, and I know they're tiny, but...the earth is just such a damn *mess*, I feel like I have to do what I can. And I just find waste really personally irritating. Do you have any dopey environmental habits? For me to neurotically adopt?

breaking trail

Here's a picture from the epic ski that turned two of my toenails black:

(I'll spare you the picture of my toenails.) I was out for six hours that day with two of my ski-dance compatriots, one of whom thought we might be able to break trail through this section of the landscape where they don't lay track. Um, we very quickly changed our minds. Pretty, though, isn't it? The map showed the trail going right over that frozen lake, which implies that it's a winter trail, but no one else seemed to be taking it.

pylones

While I was in Norway, I purchased the world's cutest thermos. (And, thanks to the exchange rate, paid more for it than I would have paid here. But that's ok, because - look how cute!) It made me a popular ski-outing partner. I think the hot chocolate made people willing to overlook the fact that I ski slower than an arthritic cow.

sun gets in your eyes

Today I went to yoga for the third time this month. I am on fire, people. On fire. And also rapidly handing my cash over to the yoga studio around the corner - it's $17 a pop. The weirdest thing about this studio is all the windows. I love the windows, and I like to put my mat so I'm in the sun. But in winter, at a noontime class, this means that when I do downward-facing dog, the sun is in my eyes. From between my legs. It's kind of an unusual angle for a sun-in-the-eyes problem. The other weird thing about the windows is, there's totally an office building right across the street. Hello, office people! This is my butt! In the air!

weight

A few months ago, my parents got a new set of scales. I couldn't figure out how to use them (sometimes, I'm dumber than you'd think), plus I kind of liked being ignorant. Then yesterday I learned how to use the thing, and learned that I've hit a new record weight. (My dad, standing next to me, helpfully said, "Wow!")

So it's my new plan to go back to my old plan, which involved exercise and also involved tracking said exercise on a joint google calendar with Miss Shirley. Anyone else want to get in on this motivational calendar? The more people who know how embarrassingly little I exercise, the merrier. Let me know and I'll add your e-mail to the calendar. I think you have to have a google account.