killing some time before the Assassin's Guild party. i'm not really sure why i decided to go to the party, but i guess i figured what the hell. if i were smart, i would use the time to work on Game, but as it is, i really felt like writing an entry. maybe it was the impassioned plea [okay, i may be exaggerating here] from a certain Miss E.V. that came with my three copies of Neil Gaiman's Coraline. one of those copies has already gone to its owner, and another will soon be given as a gift, and the third is, of course, my very own. they are all signed special edition hardcovers, but now i am wondering if i should not have ordered a copy of the regular edition as well, unsigned so that i could have the pleasure of watching the author sign it in person? i should really think of these sorts of things earlier. and i'm being quite silly about it, anyway.
i just had a lovely dinner Legal's, baked scrod with breadcrumbs, a baked potato with sour cream, squash, and warm chocolate pudding cake with vanilla ice cream. the Legal Sea Foods near MIT continues to be my favorite of the ones i have tried in the Boston area. i'm not sure why, perhaps nostalgia. the service is sometimes quite good (as it was tonight), and they don't usually seem too put out by my tendency to keep my face buried in a book while eating. today i have been continuing to explore the adventures of Mrs. Amelia Peabody Emerson and family, written by the extremely entertaining mystery author Elizabeth Peters. no doubt it would be more strictly mannerly to be embarassed at laughing out loud at a book in public, but i have never felt that embarassment, and it seems likely i never will. perhaps i've just had too much practice doing so, given that even when i was quite young one of my least favorite thing about some of the fancier sorts of restaurants was that they lit the dining room very low, making it difficult to read. it drove my parents slightly batty, i expect, but i do think they preferred me reading than to not. oh dear. it seems that Mrs. Amelia Peabody Emerson's writing style has overtaken me, somewhat. i always did have this problem. if i read enough of something, i would acquire the style of writing in my own writing as well as my speech, usually for the duration and a short period of time afterwards. i also think i'm not being as perfectly grammatical as i should be given the sentence complexity. i should really work on that, i think. i am very much inclined towards complicated sentences, but they do require more care than i am wont to put in.
tomorrow is another filksing, for which i am not at all prepared. i have been working on nothing filkish, as much of my musical energy has gone towards the stuff i've been working on with a friend, as well as to learning how to work the soundboard for the fabulous band comprised of some friends of mine, called Mazer Rackham. not that i really have as much time to spare for music as i would like. and then Zamir starts up again in the fall, and all through September and half of October i will be working on Game madly, so there will be even less time for other music stuffs for awhile, which will be very sad. but after Game i will be free! free to become the all-singing, all-dancing jenwa. whee. did i mention that i'm up to Tap Level 2 dance lessons now? it's way fun -- almost as much mental exercise as physical, really. and i want to take modern dance, and ballroom dance [i am especially fond of the waltz and the tango, but almost anything would do], and yoga, and tai chi, and some more strenous sort of martial art...
this is in addition to, in the spring, hopefully taking a language class and/or a history class, of course. i still can't decide among starting ancient greek, latin, or japanese, or furthering my mandarin chinese. or maybe something else entirely. perhaps i will wake up one morning and discover that i am taking a mythology class. hee.
i know that i should not have had the warm chocolate pudding cake, only it calls to me. my stomach feels very round now, though. i suppose i should be glad that it has not expressed its displeasure more forcefully through pain or somesuch. i do not like it when my interior attacks me.
yesterday i bought a very cute set of dumbbells. i have only brought the 2-lb ones home with me as of yet; the 3-lb and 5-lb pairs will have to wait until i am going straight home from work some day. and i looked up some new tricep exercises to do, because the one i had been doing didn't seem to be entirely effective. one of the new ones is, i think perfect, though i still need to work on my left arm's form, i think. the right one feels the stretch in exactly the right place, but the left arm has elbow strain in a weird way... and i can't believe i'm talking about weights on my journal. i've just never been a very fitness oriented person. but now... i'm finding it kinda fun. it feels good, y'know? very strange. my high school self would be confused, i think. but i am honestly tired of having flabby arms and a tummy that protrudes quite as much as mine does. it is sad, perhaps, that i have succumbed to the superficial, but at this point, i'm finding it hard to care about that part. and i was in better shape in high school than i am now, anyway. so there, high-school-self. you just didn't know how good you had it, so you could afford to not give a shit. now, i have let myself dissipate, and it feels really good to be pulling myself together. is it so weird to want my body to do what i want it to do? and i know that if i keep it healthy, it will be able to follow my instructions far longer. i like this whole maintaining control thing. it is good.
and i have to admit. i am proud of myself. i have lost 55 lbs since last November. and, goddamnit, it feels good.