'Lent' is Latin for 'South Beach'

I have been absent, and you have let me know it. I’m sorry. My boss has been out of town, so I will be super-productive for like, an hour, and then I’ll just go “um, why am I working?” and read stuff online. I suck, guys. But today I am all for you. Any second I’m not working, I’ll be posting something; let’s see how many posts I can get up to before I skip out early to go running.

As this will be the first of many epistles, I do not feel at all bad about starting with a boring update of my life. When last we saw Beedoo, she was detailing the finer points of her non-wedding ceremony. Thank you all for standing by me as I occasionally peek over the precipice that is total insanity. You’ll be pleased to know I am over all that now. And after spending a night at Starbucks with a gaggle of unruly toddlers, the baby-pondering segment of my life was quashed before it began. Thank you, bad parents. Thank you so much.

I have discovered that I am a big whiner, which disturbs me, because I hate whiners. I don’t complain about the big things, like having to go to work and paying bills and getting up early—I really don’t mind doing any of those things. But I will complain about the cold and snow for hours after I’ve been warm and indoors. I think I’m hoping the weather will take a hint and pout off back to Antarctica, but it doesn’t seem likely. I’ll complain that I can’t eat cake every day, or that I’m not losing weight fast enough. I’ll whine about DSW’s shoes being too expensive even when they’re on sale. These are things that I would screech at the TV for when Carrie whined about them, because her life was so freaking privileged she had to complain about hangnails, because she couldn’t just appreciate her idyllic existence. I realize that. I’ll try to shut the hell up.

I gave up chocolate for Lent. Am I Catholic? No. But my Aunt has given up chocolate, so for the next eight weeks I am Catholic-by-proxy. I also can’t have meat on Fridays, which doesn’t really bug me out too much, since I don’t eat much meat anyways. Oh, wait… my Lean Cuisines are all chicken. I have chicken for lunch. It’s got rice and veggies too, though… and I have to eat it, because tossing the chicken is a waste, and I need fuel to go running. This is why I’m not Catholic—it’s way too easy for me to rationalize cheating. I’m like “Did Jesus sacrifice himself so I could live my life malnourished? I think he would rather I be healthy. I won’t kill anyone today, that’ll make up for it. Or I just won’t swear.” Catholics seem to be cool with a series of trading sins to suit your purpose; I guess it’s a way to feel good about ‘doing your best’, but really it’s some stinkin’ dirty cheating. But as I said, not Catholic, so I can’t feel too bad about doing it. I’ll have to buy some fish Lean Cuisines, and in the meantime, settle for not eating meat at Friday dinners, which is the meal my Aunt and I eat together anyway. I’m really just hoping to drop the extra ten pounds in uneaten chocolate. We’ll see.

OK, so I feel a little bad about being boring. I’ll make it up to you by following up on my old letters from Europe, sort of an ode to how I never finish anything. I found the Scotland / Dublin one, to the effect that I want to move back to the UK more than ever, and life here in the tundra is now that much harder. Also, to all the ladies I kicked it with in the UK: I hope you’re doing well; I miss the hell out of all of you.

And now—Edinburgh (Yay!) and Dublin (BOO!) thru the eyes of one Beedoo.


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