Sunday, December 23, 2012

Chatting and eating and drinking and eating and eating

Apparently I'm not all that bothered by not blogging every single day in December since I've missed about three days. I learn a lot of things when I decide to force myself to write something everyday for any consecutive amount of time: forcing yourself to write has good and bad sides, the major bad side is that you often sacrifice quality for quantity. One of the annoying aspects of my personality (among many, many others) is that I often need to be forced to do things so that I can remember how much I enjoy them (see: writing, yoga, crossword puzzles, cardio exercise, whiskey) and it often just never takes to being a habit. Or it does, but only temporarily. I'd love to have the discipline of Jay Gatsby, say, and write down a list of all the things I want to accomplish and then just do them. Sometimes I can, most times I can't. I often feel that when I am perched on my oaken deathbed (I always wanted my deathbed to be made of oak for some reason, more dramatic that way) I'll regret my lack of discipline. But who can say in these matters? I'll never regret sleeping in, which is what kept me from blogging yesterday and the day before so it may end up all coming out in a wash.

Speaking of Jay Gatsby, I've decided to get a tattoo. And this tattoo will be Gatsby related, specifically involving the green light but I have yet to find an artistic rendition that will suffice for marking my body until such time as I take to my oaken deathbed. I have seen at least four photographs that would work, but for those of you have tattoos, can a tattoo artist accurately make a photo a tattoo? I don't know thing 1 about these things. Or thing 2 or 3 for that matter. And I haven't yet settled on an optimal place on my zaftig corpulence* for the tattoo yet either. I'm going to be getting it strictly for me so I'm not too bothered by it "showing", that is, I don't need to have it in a place where it needs to be exposed. However, I've always found shoulder and arm tattoos appealing. It is hard to make those feminine looking, and as all who know me in real life, I am girly but I have actually seen it pulled off. Ah, I don't know. There is a lot to think about. Or I could just get drunk the night before I ship out and get an anchor on my bicep. You know, either one.

Last night I had dinner at Kristen and Andrew's apartment with some of my family and some of my extended family. We all gathered around the kitchen island chatting and eating and eating and drinking and eating and eating. I remember at one point last night thinking "what a lovely way to spend an evening." And it truly was. It is such a lovely thing to do that I'm replicating the process tonight again at my own apartment. I have an annual "holiday" dinner with some high school friends and current friends and my sister. We all just hang around, say it with me now "chatting and eating and drinking and eating and eating." By the way, I fully expect any and all January blogs to be about how I hate diet and exercise because all of that is going to need to happen.

In other news, I got nothing else. For more information about tattoos, eating, and oaken deathbeds visit your local library. Or call 1-800-BLOGSUCKS. Or visit us on the web at

*I did not consult a thesaurus for these words. I just happen to know several ways of describing fatness.

No comments:

Post a Comment