LET THERE BE LIFE!

1 May 2002

When I was a kid, we had to write a story giving life to an inanimate object. I didn't know the term "anthropomorphize" at the time, but that's what we were doing--anthropomorphising an inanimate object. I chose a pencil eraser and wrote about what it felt to have its head scratched--I can't remember everything else I put into it, but it got me wondering, at that tender age, about whether all inanimate objects really have a sort of sentience and were just quietly observing us hot blooded humans as we went about our business.

The assignment led to my year-long relationship with a toilet paper dispenser in the girls' bathroom. It was a silver dispenser and it had a slit through which you could see the level of the toilet paper and then two screws that held the lid on—giving the front of the holder a kind of face-look.

On a bad day, when I needed someone to talk to, I decided that this toilet paper dispenser could listen to me. I called it "Noey" (short for "nobody knows") and whenever I had a problem, I would go into the bathroom and talk to Noey (hey--gimme a break--It was 3rd grade!)

(If anybody has any doubts about the life of inanimate objects, check this article.)

I spoke the other day about my first bike, a dark blue used bike that we bought from an ad in the newspaper. At the time I was reading the book "Midnight Moon" by Dorothy Lyons, and decided that the bike was my own "horse" and so I named it Midnight Moon for the horse in that book. I called it "Moony" for short.

I haven't really anthropomorphised objects since that time. People give their cars names and personalities, but I never have. The closest was the green van that we had all the kids' growing up years, which Walt's sister nicknamed "The Jolly Green Giant," but I never really thought of it as anything but "the van." (My mother calls David's old red Toyota, which we now have, "the tomato can," but it's just "David's car" to me.)

But with hanging around Terri and Haggie, I'm thinking that maybe my new bike should have a name. Terri's old Schwinn was "Addie" and Haggie's car is "Emmy." I'm sure that she will eventually come up with a name for her bike as well.

It just seems only fair that my bike have a name.

But what to call it?

I've been mulling this over for some time now and nothing seemed quite right. Today I decided. Somehow it seemed appropriate to have the name tied into something connected to the computer, since the computer is one extension of my life, and the bike is another.

So what do I use the bike for? Well, to get to different places, to find things of interest, to pick up stories to use in this journal. It's kind of a locator of sorts, isn't it. What better description than "uniform resource locator." The bike is now URL (pronounced "earl"). I expect you'll hear a lot about URL and me in the coming months. I think we make a good duo. I hope that we have a long, happy and intimate relationship. It's nice to finally have a bike with a personality.

This being Tuesday, it's time for a WeightWatchers update. I knew that I wasn't going to have any big weight loss this week. I haven't been diligent with journaling--but have been in situations where I just kind of guessed at points, guessed at totals for the day... and then there was that "muffin incident" at Olivia's.

But that's the whole point of this "non-diet," isn't it? To be flexible? To learn to live with the new eating system? To keep going whether it's a -5 lb week or a -0.4 lb week, right? So I was all prepared for anything.

Except a 2.6 loss. This body is just melting away before my very eyes. I've now lost 47.3 lbs. I don't expect to hit 50 next week, but surely by the week after. Fifty pounds. Wow. Even *I* am impressed!

I skipped the treadmill today. It was either do that or take a ride through the greenbelt. When Joan's husband stepped on the "other" treadmill, it made my decision for me. I could have waited around--he was almost finished by the time I'd done all the other machines--but if I did 15 minutes on the treadmill, I'd have to skip the bike ride in order to get to Weight Watchers in time.

(God, that sounds so damn healthy.)

So I rode through the greenbelt and was glad that I did. I love the mist rising off the duck pond in the light of the rising sun, and the Canada geese walking around, the birds singing good morning in the trees. It's a lovely way to start the day. (I wish I'd brought my camera with me.)

I really tried to justify not doing The Dreaded Overpass, but realized that if I wasn't going to do the treadmill, I'd jolly well better take the overpass. And so I did. The reward for huffing and puffing up the overpass is flying down the other side. I even had to put on the brakes because I was going too fast. It's a very exhilarating feeling.

Everything is going well--except the blood pressure, which is not cooperating. It began going down when I started exercising, but now it's going up again, and neither Dr. G nor I can figure out why. But I have a diabetes class to attend next week--and they want me to bring in a week's worth of blood pressure readings--and maybe we'll go for some blood pressure medications for a time, just to get it all within normal limits again.