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ok. the bike is up and working again, for anyone who has been following that saga along. total price = $135. basically, the cost of a new bike. ha ha. isn't the irony of life grand?

i've been feeling very strange lately, kinda depressed, kinda not wanting to leave the house, kinda not wanting to be on tv. i was supposed to join my friend/songman for an appearance on a tv show. i left a message on his machine telling him that i didn't feel comfortable enough to do it, didn't feel prepared (i would be strumming my gueetar), and basically, he should go alone and just talk. i neglected to mention that i was suffering from a case of not-wanting-to-leave-the-apartment-ness, also close cousins with feeling-fat-ugly-incredibly-zitty-ness.

perhaps the depression stems from the daily reminder (while applying deodorant) that my latest weight gain has led to stretch marks on my ARMS. at first i thought that i had some weird rash-type thing on my upper [inner] arms, just above my armpits, but no. FATTY FAT FAT FAT. ugh. they go nicely with the ones on my inner thighs. a real sense of PRIDE and self-love right here.

i have not yet bought new pants, which can be construed as a good thing (having not grown out of at least 2 pairs of pants currently owned) - this could also be because i tormented myself YET AGAIN by trying on pants at Old Navy in their horrendously lit changing rooms. when i could get the pants around my ass and buttoned up over my eighteenth spare tire, my strange pear-shapedness threatened to weaken the side seams of whatever pants i was wearing. sweaty, shaking, pale, dimply and ugly (as reflected under the fluorescent lights) i stepped back into the oversized jeans i wore into the store, and slinked away in defeat.

i know, i know. i should be working harder at this. i should be at the gym every freaking day, or taking laxatives in my tea, or eating nothing but salted water as a "thinning soup." that's what truly desperate people do, right? for some odd reason, it is not enough motivation for me. i put my body on the backburner, so to speak - my schooling comes first, my housework comes second, my downtime comes third. should i re-arrange priorities here? i am biking around as much as i can, now, and due to new safety measures, i carry the bike up the apartment stairs every day. i don't have any money to spend on new shoes for working out, but that is a top goal once i do. oh yeah, after bills and costs of living. silly fat me.

i don't want to be one of those people obsessed enough to torture myself into painful exercise. i really *AM* active, and my diet is top-notch. i scare myself when i think of things like starvation (not enough discipline) or ephedra (hmm, my heart IS uncannily strong...). my doctor wasn't worried when i talked to her [briefly] about it several months ago, but maybe she'll worry when she hears the way i speak about it. enough people do.

enough people would like me to shut the hell up. hey, so would i.