SPECKS

• Push-up bras don’t work if you don’t have anything to push up.

• Basically I get out of bed so that I can go eat my gummy bear vitamins. Once I’ve done that I’m like, “Well, that was a productive day. Let’s go back to bed.”

• On Saturday Jim walked around Virginia City with a green head tucked under his arm. We were there for pizza with his family and while meandering past tourist traps of all sorts, I spied a green glass head wearing a hat for sale. I tapped it’s nose and told Jim, “I want to get one of those.” “Well then let’s get you this one,” he said, picking up the display and taking it inside. Moments later, I had a green head of my very own. “Everything’s for sale,” he told me.

• Mine is the most dysfunctional gaydar of all time.

• I like to write, but I loathe writing bios about myself. Which is strange because, as a general rule, I looove writing about myself. I’m sort of the only thing I know how to write about.

• It is safe to be honest with my James because he doesn’t jump to conclusions.

• Cameron and I tried rock climbing. I failed. So we will go take a class and try again. Cameron posits that since there’s a chance we may get stranded on an island or need to survive somewhere someday this is a skill that may come in handy at a future time so getting proficient is just good sense.

• Josie has been denim shopping lately. The other night she was looking for a tape measure and when I asked what for she said she needed to know how long her legs are. Let me remind you: she is TWELVE. I am THIRTY-ONE. She’s, like, four inches shorter than I am. You see where this is heading. I know my inseam, and so I had her find her hipbone and we matched it to mine. My hipbone is only about a half inch above hers. “Hey, you can wear 12-year-old clothes!” she said. “That would be true,” I replied, “were it not for my lady hips and thighs.” I told her we were now fighting seeing as those are the legs I signed up for in heaven, and God went and gave them to her. Jim was ROTFL. Yessir, I wrote that.

• Cake.

• What with all my yoga stuff and work junk and personal laptop and girl tools and toiletries I require to reconstruct myself after yoga, it’s not uncommon for me to leave in the morning hauling 40lbs. worth of gear. I know because I have weighed it.

• 18.5% of my body is fat. That sounds like too much, though I know it isn’t.

• When I sit next to Jim in his truck or even in the passenger seat in his little car, he wraps his right arm over my knees and tucks his hand into the top of my boots.

• If I made a list of all the candy I eat in one week, it would be far too embarrassing to share (this coming from a girl who has no problem writing an essay about a trip to the gynecologist and sending it out for publication; apparently my shame threshold is uncommonly high). Yesterday day alone—all before noon, mind you—we’ve got white candy melts, an Airhead, Grapeheads, and a York Peppermint Patty. An entire week’s list would look like a candy shop inventory.



• Anyone had those Jolly Rancher carmel apple suckers? Are they good? I nearly snatched one from a basket by a doctor’s desk today. Then I remembered I’m supposed to be a professional, and I kept my grubby little hands to myself.

• I do not know where the big bruises on my shins came from. I never know where my bruises came from.

• Sunday night while we were eating dinner Jim asked me, “What’s a common misconception about you?” Hands down, most common of all? That I eat healthy. “Vegetarian” isn’t synonymous with “healthy.” At least not in my case.

• Why am I always cold after pounding a lot of water even when the water’s at room temperature?