Ideapad Journal

May 31, 2001 +

It's a funny question to answer, really: "Have you lost a lot of weight?"

On one hand, there are few better questions in the world. (My girlfriend over there keeps getting asked why she looks so darned happy lately, which is probably a better one, not to mention a fine compliment in my direction.) On the other, its askance is a tough little moment.

Saying no makes the questioner look foolish, which I learned over the years when wearing a particularly good shirt or tan -- "Why, no, actually, but thanks!" Saying no also happens to be a falsehood this spring, and I lie about as well as I ski, which is to say, I don't. So "no" is out.

Saying yes is odd because it subconsciously implies my own shortcomings. "Why, yes, I did lose weight (because I was a chunky sumbitch before, you just didn't notice because I wore a lot of blousy shirts, or maybe you were just too polite to agree, all those times I referred to my gut and you said, 'Come now, you're not fat,' but now that I'm back near my ideal weight, I'm glad it shows), thanks." I'd rather not take someone else's good cheer negatively, so "yes, you motherfucker" is definitely out.

Of course, to be asked if one has lost weight -- having completed the diet and successfully implemented a month of the weight-maintenance plan -- is a confirmation of a diet's necessity and success. It is the ultimate compliment. I am thinner, I look thinner, I look better, I feel better, and it shows.

So, have I lost a lot of weight?

Why, yes! I don't know exactly how much, because I didn't weigh myself at the start, but it's a good 15 pounds, maybe more. And I plan on keeping it off for a while. Thanks so much for noticing. I'm very proud.


May 16, 2001 +

So I took this killer golf getaway vacation last week.

I flew this airline (it was cheap) to this city (it was sunny). Drove this car (it was a laugh) to this "condotel" (it was a huge room) where my buddy Neal and I set up camp.

Wednesday morning: fancy golf.

Wednesday afternoon: ridiculous golf.

Thursday: only one round of golf.

Friday morning: water-infested golf (no link available; the course is brand new).

Friday afternoon: one last round of golf.

We also lay around and slept a lot.


May 8, 2001 +

Rules to Live By: Latest in a series

Never book a vacation with a first-year investment banker.


May 7, 2001 +

I crack me up.
mom: It's probably a little tendinitis from overuse -- golf 7 days in a row and then the gym- but it's still aggravating -- the season's just starting
wertheimerdavid: If you think it's tendinitis, take two weeks off and then go back
mom: yeah, 2 weeks would be smart, but who's smart?
wertheimerdavid: Stephen Hawking is smart (but he doesn't play golf)

I still have a bit of a gut. Must. Do. Crunches. But one cannot understate the elation of shopping for pants after a successful diet and discovering that all the pants at one's usual size are, suddenly, too big in the waist.


May 4, 2001 +

It is enough for you to know that I am dizzily happy these days.




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That Girl: Unrequited longing on the morning commute
Extra! Extra! Read All About Me: Why I do what I do
Lucky Penny: Because love comes from the strangest places
Never Mind the Hobnob, I Have a 7-10 Split: Reflections on BlogBowl I
How Procrastination Occurs: How a college sophomore writes a paper in one night

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This was the original Ideapad, an outlet for personal observations, muses and essays. As the Ideapad grew into a weblog the journal spun off in its own direction. Journal entries often chronicle observations of the moment, and are sometimes written in a deliberately obtuse fashion. The essays are more well-rounded and introspective.

This is not a diary.

The history:
The Ideapad debuted on November 1, 1998 and the Journal was separated from the greater 'Pad in March 2000.

About the author

Copyright © 2001 David Wertheimer. All rights reserved.