elkit in wonderland

Beauty

For B I said: beauty. blessings. bosoms. butts. buttheads. bonbons. BACON (including Francis, and Francis). Betrayal.

Let's talk about all of these, why the hell not? I have extra words to write.

Of course, beauty, bosoms, and butts all go beautifully together under another B word: body. So let's talk about bodies.

How do you live in your body? I have several friends who get antsy when they don't move their bodies, like people get "hangry" when they need food. I envy them very much for this cue to exercise their physical beings. Me, you sit my ass down on a sofa, and I turn into the proverbial couch potato and do not ever feel the inclination for movement. I'll get up to to eat, drink, pee, and poop, yes, and I'll lie down to sleep when I get tired, but that's it. Exercise? I never feel the urge. I've been exercising regularly for the last four, five years, the longest I've ever stuck with it, but I work out with a personal trainer because I know I cannot be trusted to keep it up with my own discipline. (This is because I DON'T HAVE ANY.)

I do enjoy exercising. I like the feeling of my muscles moving, I like sweating and getting out of breath and making an effort, and I love the feeling of accomplishment when I'm done, that afterglow, afterburn. But still, it never prompts me to work out just on a whim. I can work out by myself when I schedule it, and it's easier if I have decided a sequence of events ahead of time: in the evening, I decide that I'll get up and go to the gym, shower, then go grocery shopping. If I don't consciously put this on my brain calendar, then it will not happen. And I stick with it more if I know I will be held accountable, and soon. What usually works if 2 weekly workout sessions with the trainer, and 1 by myself in between.

The people who get the messages from their bodies to run, bike, dance, I think of them as speaking the same language as their bodies, while I need a translator. Or they live in their bodies more ... directly, if you will, while I am a foreign visitor who needs an intermediary to communicate with this vessel.

he other part of living in a body is feeding it. Remember we said bonbon and bacon at the top. Okay, I did, you didn't. For all I know you said banana. Or bread. Or brown sugar.

The feeding is another thing where I have to ask and listen closely in order to find out what is suitable and needed. And some foods just override any sensible decisions. I'm sure you've heard about sugar being addictive. It certainly feels true for me. Do you ever have it happen that you eat something, and it tastes great on the first couple of bites, then it tastes good on the third bite, and after a half dozen mouthfuls, you don't really want any more, and you KNOW you don't want any more, but you still cannot stop? You don't know what that is like? Be glad.

I'm going to stop here because you know what? Just talking about sugar makes me want to have some, so I will switch gears and distract myself with a carrot or two.  

Cycling

Okay, I have to go out of order and skip ahead from A to C. My blog, my rules, after all.

The Tour de France starts tomorrow, and I gotta get my ducks all in a row, all my i's dotted and t's crossed, and all my sources lined up and my notebook set on the table so I can play along with the commentators and make a wild prediction for the stage winner.

If you're curious but have no idea what's going on, this Beginner's Guide from Velonews is a good place to get started. And the commentary is really good; they all know that a fair part of their audience is not too familiar with cycling - or if they are, this is the only race they watch during the year.

I will watch the coverage on NBCSN - no, wait, that ain't right, it's NBC Sports.

Of course I also have an app, I use the Tour Tracker.

And I read along on Velonews, Cyclingnews, and Cycling Fans.

I follow lots of cyclists, sports directors, managers, and sports journalists on Twitter where I keep a list just for that.

And the Australian Orica-GreenEdge team is doing a great job for their fans; they are posting a "Backstage Pass" video on Youtube for each Grand Tour stage.

 

So, what am I looking forward to, who do I think will win, and who am I rooting for?

The first stage is an individual time trial. My favorite is the German reigning world champion Tony Martin.

For the overall win, the "general classification" as it's called, I expect one of the big four favorites to win: Nibali, Contador, Froome, or Quintana. I think Contador is most likely, but then again, he rode the Giro and must be tired. And anyway, I am rooting for Quintana.

PS under my word count for the day, but I ran off to the movies, so I'll just post this as it was, instead of adding more. And not counting the PS words for word count either,

Affection

So I said I might write about amendments. But that would require me actually learning something about the constitutional amendments, and the day is already almost over. Oops! Too late. Maybe I'll, uh, amend this post later in the month.

Advertisements was the other A word in my list of prompts. Gawd, is there ANYTHING left on the interwebs without ads? Interstitial ads, ads popping up randomly inside the article you are reading, 30 second ads you have to watch before you can see the 10 second YouTube video. So effing annoying. Sigh. Is this ad relevant to you? NO!!! Go the hell away. And all the ads that follow you around the web are just creepy. I check out sports bras on titlenine.com and then every. Single. web site that I visit shows me an ad for Title Nine sports bras. I don't need to see sports bras while I read the news about Ferguson! And if I already BOUGHT a sports bra, you really don't need to show me any more. That is. Just. DUMB.

But it just makes me mad to talk about that (could you tell?), so, while I was sitting on the front porch with the Kattman on my lap, another A word occurred to me: affection.

The Kattman is a stray cat. He showed up about four years ago, and when I first saw him, I thought my indoor cat Tara had gotten out, because he looks a lot like her. He was kinda scruffy and scrawny, so I gave him some food. He is not stupid, so he hung around, and I kept feeding him. This way, much in the same was as The Little Prince explains, I have made myself responsible for him. I have tamed him, and he has tamed me. He is such a sweet cat. I often wonder if he had a home before he moved into my backyard, because he is so good-natured and affectionate with me. He loves nothing more than snuggling. He curls up on my lap, with my arms encircling him, and puts his forehead in the palm of my hand. Then he puts his paws around the back of my hand so he can hold me closer. Doesn't that sound like the most adorable thing?

You're right, it is. I scratch his head and pet his body, and he purrs and "makes biscuits" with his paws and drools a little. He is not careful with his claws, and often scratches me. But I really don't mind. How could I? I know he doesn't mean to be mean. He just wants to love me, and for me to love him back. And I do.

I regularly tell him how lucky I am that he found me, and how sweet he is, and what a good boy and Miezekatzenmann he is, petting him all the while and showing him AFFECTION.

Aufwaermen

Okay okay okay. Hellooooo CampNaNoWrimo!!!!!
Camp starts today, and I committed to writing in my blog every day. And not only that but the NaNoWriMo site made me commit to a minimum of 10,000 words for the month, which makes 323 minimum average every day. OK FINE.
Today will be just a warm-up. Throat-clearing, scales, limbering up, stuff like that.

I think I will go through the alphabet for prompts to decide what to write each day. Today will be the warm-up. The Prologue, sort of.
Let's see what I could be writing about this month.
A: amendments. advertising.
B: beauty. blessings. bosoms. butts. buttheads. bonbons. BACON (including Francis, and Francis). Betrayal.
C: this one will have to be CYCLING, because the Tour de France starts on Saturday, and I will start by listing the sources to follow. If I write this on Saturday, July 4th, then maybe I will throw in a few words about the Constitution.
D: disagreements. Been thinking about all the news I follow and how everything is getting so clickbaity. "Jon Stewart DESTROYED Bill O'Reilly!" No he didn't. He voiced an opinion that is different, that was all. Getting so sick and tired of hyperbole everywhere.
E: Elke, perhaps, since the universe revolves around me.
F: foooooooood. FUD.
G: goodness. geekery.
H: history, repeating itself. hyperbole.
I: I. identity. interior voices.
J: java, as in coffee. jetpacks. justice.
K: knowledge. kittens.
L: love. levity. lungs. longitude.
M: my mom.
N: Norte America. Neuromancer.
O: ovaltine. nah, just kidding. And when/where I grew up, it was called Ovomaltine. Don't ask me why, I do not know. What to write about then? Ovaries, perhaps.
P: pretzels. pickshers.
Q: Quality. this reminds me of Avi's email signature, which said: Fast. Good. Cheap. Pick any two. Quintana. my queuebickle.
R: responsibility. reading (my first and greatest love).
S: shit and shinola.
T: tonight.
U: the underdog. which reminds me, sweetly, of the "undertoad" mentioned in a John Irving novel (I forget which one, it does not matter anyway).
V: hmmm. probably not going to write about the vagina monologues.
W: I could write about writing.
X: marks the spot. :-)
Y: why oh why. You.
Z: Zimmermann. zest. zing. zzzzzzz's.

Everyboy Here Wants You

Cake or Death?, originally uploaded by elkit.

The Food Librarian made me do it. She said it's Bundt Cake Day today, so I made a Bundt Cake today. We picked the Cream Cheese Pound Cake with Lime Glaze, which turned out really yummy, even though the tips got a little blackened.

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven Day Weekend

Mine is not seven days long. But four ain't bad at all. I took today and Monday off, so I could bracket my weekend retreat nicely and stress-free. I'm cleaning up around the house and in the yard, and after lunch time, I'll take off for Santa Cruz, where I will spend the weekend a half dozen intrepid NaNoWriMo veterans. Rob found us a great house on Black's Beach, and we'll write and write and eat and drink and have a good time. 

Don't let me forget to pack my Bundt pan, the flour sifter, and the zester. The Food Librarian declared Sunday Bundt Cake Day, and who am I to protest? There were several votes for the Cream Cheese Pound Cake with Lime Glaze, so that's what it'll be. It also meant that I could snatch limes from my neighbors' tree as I dropped off the winter seedlings on their patio table: purple kohlrabi, shelling peas, broccolini, and a cluster of spindly leeks that were tested and declared edible my Ms. Maia. Her thinking seemed to be that it looked close enough to cat grass. I may plant more leeks for her. Good on her for eating her veggies.

Random trivia tidbit: a Bundt cake in German is called a Guglhupf [Google-hoopf]. 

All You Can, All You Can

Yesterday, in a fit of insanity, I signed up for NaNoWriMo. I'd been all but certain I'd sit it out again this year, like I did last year, and with an even better excuse (much work, beating last year's absence due to a vacation hands down). And then our work schedule eased up a little, and I had a moment of delusions of grandeur, and renewed my registration. 

Gaaaaaahhh! I mean, ghaaaaaaaaaaarrrrggghhh! What was I thinking? What am I going to write about? I mean, WHAT? AM? I GOING! TO WRITE??? ABOUT???!!!!!!

I'm having fun simulating a panic attack. And I'm determined to take it easy. If I make it to 50,000, great. If not, so what? The world is not going to end. We all know it's going to end in 2012. Plenty of time to get my panic on.

But really, what AM I going to write?  

Shame, Shame, Shame

io9 talks to Chris Baty, our NaNoWriMo cult leader, about writing a novel in 30 days.

One of the things I really like about NaNoWriMo is this community you’ve set up. You have these block captains who keep everyone in line. And there’s this wonderful sense of – and I mean this in the best way possible – sense of shame in the community, shaming you to keep writing.

Of Our Elaborate Plans, The End

  Before November 
  Originally uploaded by earthdog

I added today's writing to my file. Ran the word count validator and came up with 49,996 words.

So of course I had to add the following:

"Then Dylan exploded. THE END."

And thus I am a winner, with 50,001 words.

Further To Fly

Simon sez:
    When you write the word 'farther', remember to type the h.

I say it's good advice.