Good Lisa vs. Bad Lisa

On May 6, I started on a big exercise kick. Joined the gym, went every day, got a trainer, watched diet -- the whole nine yards. I was very diligent until about mid-summer when I took a trip to Vegas. After that, I went away for business, then pleasure, then more pleasure, then a birthday, a holiday and so on. Self control? Not my strong suit. All of this amounted to about a 3 week hiatus from my regimen.

I've been trying to get back into it for the last few weeks, but am really having motivational problems. My goal is to run in a 5K on October 10, which is now less than 2 weeks away.

Seriously, I don't want to be one of those "hey, I hit the gym" kind of people, but the truth is this: if I don't tell everybody I know that I'm doing this, I could easily backslide from all my hard work and settle for a leisurely stroll 2 weeks from now. Nobody would know any different, except for me. That should be enough to motivate me, but apparently it isn't. Is it bad I have to threaten myself with shame and embarrassment? Probably, but hey ... whatever works.

So Facebook people who don't want to hear about my exercise -- block me. I need to be held accountable to do what I set out to do. I'm not an athlete, I hate exercise, and I loathe sweating. BUT .... I also hate gaining weight, feeling bad about myself, and having a huge rear end.

This time, Good Lisa is gonna win out.

Goodbye Funkalumpagus

A Funkalumpagus. That's what I've been for the last week.

Here's what I'm gonna to launch "Operation: Snap Out of It":

• Have my house to myself
• Watch girl TV = no sports
• Run further today than I did yesterday (goal is 2.5 miles)
• Cook ... it relaxes me (stuffed shells for Sunday dinner, mini quiches to take to work for breakfast, meatballs to freeze, crabcakes for tonight)
• Take pictures of what I cook for my cookbook
• Read some of my magazines that are piling up, then throw them away
• Make reservations for Sunday brunch -- this time it'll be dim sum in Chinatown
• Throw away at least 2 bags of junk
• Put new music on my iPod

I think that's a pretty good start.

Meddlers

I was watching one of the morning news shows while getting ready for work this morning, and of course they were talking about the latest buzz on Mackenzie Phillips. She's apparently triggered a big family feud with her public announcement -- and you can't get much more public than talking to Oprah -- that she and her father had a sexual relationship.

Honestly, I need to wash my hands after merely typing those words.

Anyway, so now there's a family feud over this. The media start naming the pro-Mackenzie and anti-Mackenzie teams. Among her supporters are her sister China (or is it Chyna?), some other people, and then .... Dr. Drew.


Dr. Drew? He's not a relative. Why is he on a team?


I'll tell you why: because he's one of those people who loves to come out of the woodwork to offer "help" or an opinion during any kind of public controversy, event or crisis. Some folks always seem to be right in the middle -- others maybe just starred in one big outburst.

Some of the media whore-ific meddlers that come to mind (both past and present meddlers):

• Dr. Drew
• Rush Limbaugh
• The Dynamic Duo of Jesse Jackson & Al Sharpton
• Jane "tank girl" Fonda
• Oprah (I kinda like her, but let's face it .... she's always right in the middle of everything)
• Dr. Suzanne Somers (ie: her idiotic, unsolicited medical opinion on Swayze's chemo treament)
• Michael Moore (in my top 10 list of aholes ... maybe even top 3) - he's a passive aggressive meddler; he'll wait and make his statement in the form of some one-sided, distorted piece of shit "documentary"
• Tom Cruise - because he's so enlightened

OK, who am I missing?

Stop Grossing Me Out

While I'm on the topic of "seasons", I've got another seasonal issue which I'm curious to find out if anyone else shares:

Why is it that when flu season rolls around, the media becomes obsessed with airing pictures and footage of people getting needles? Not just sitting in the doctor's office looking miserable, but close-up shots of needles penetrating the skin.

I HATE NEEDLES AND DO NOT WANT TO SEE THIS. Please stop assaulting my eyeballs with these disturbing, nightmare-inducing images!!!

Nurses and doctors see this all the time, so it's probably no big deal to them. Well, I'm not a nurse or doctor, so spare me. I have a weak stomach and an irrational fear of needles and medical procedures, and don't need to see these things when I'm trying to relax.

I don't need to be coddled with images of cherry blossoms and 1-year old birthday parties, but seriously ....... please stop showing people getting needles in their arms!!!! Now!!!! It doesn't inspire me to call the doctor, it inspires me to throw up and change the channel.

This is not just annoying, it's vile.

It's great that flu shots are available, but we don't need to see the process in action.

Tis Not the Season

Summer is over and a new season is here. Fall is a season for:

football
apples
boots
back to school
Oktoberfest
crockpots
hay rides

Notice some items not in that list? Like ..... Santa Claus, Jingle Bells?

Well, apparently 2 days ago on the first official day of Fall, the unofficial Christmas season also began. I was innocently watching some mindless TV when during a commercial break my ears were assaulted by the premature sound of jingle bells. The very next commercial featured a vaugely familiar "ho ho ho."

Apparently Disney and Royal Carribean don't understand the concept of fall. They want us to cancel fall this year and move right into Christmas. I'm okay with Christmas being the 5th season ... separate from the rest of winter ... but dammit, I want to enjoy fall for a few days before these clowns ruin it by ramming their Christmas sales down my throat and threatening to put coal in my stocking if I don't buy somebody a cruise package for Christmas.

In protest of their greediness and rushing the season, Disney and Royal Carribean will not be getting any business from me this year. Not that they would anyway, but this time it's an official boycott.