Rob and I went out to dinner. I stopped in the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I was reminded of how I need to work out.
 Of course people look at me like I'm crazy when I say I'm out of shape. I looked at a scale and saw I was up to 140 pounds. I've never been that heavy in my life, the most was 130. Most of the time I wavered between 117 and 125 pounds. Of course, it's evenly distributed which, with my form, means going into my chest and ass but I know the difference. And frankly, I have no desire to be that big.
 And then there's that whole big 3-0 thing. With it being a little over a month away, I'm none too pleased with things like the slowing of my metabolism and the extra lingering pounds which seem to be the cruel plight of my genetics.
 A complaint about weight such as mine is often seen as being neurosis, too high of standards or whatnot. It isn't that at all.  But the fact is, you know when you're healthy and when you're not. And when you used to be a nice, stable 120 pounds and then you realize that you've put on twenty pounds you can't feel that you have a healthy lifestyle. Besides, if these things are to be managed then they have to be tackled early on. I mean, it won't do me much good if I start worrying about my weight when I pass the 180 mark (for the record, I'm 5'3" and medium frame) at that point, it will be too hard to get back to my current weight. And with my height and build, to get to such a weight would just be asking for the heart problems that have plagued so many of my relatives.
 So I'm starting to work out. I've been doing stomach crunches for one, and am trying to find other ways to stay in shape.
 I got nostalgic for the old dancing days recently. I think that's because dancing really kept me in shape and all this talk about exercise made me realize that. I have mixed memories of it. I made a lot of friends with the girls I worked with. There was something about it that was very conducive to camaraderie and dressing room friendship and let's face it, it's the stuff of movies. A million Drew Carey shows or Office Space or any other depiction of the office life can't possibly compete to all the stuff in the movies.
 But there is of course the down side of it. Aside from the obvious aspect (getting a very close look at just how stupid humankind can get) I got sick of all the weirdness. You know everytime I hear a guy make reference to meeting a girl who works as a stripper I still kinda want to smack him. I mean when they make reference in that way. It seems no matter what else you do, that's what they know you as. Let's make up a fictitious girl and call her Heather. Let's say Heather is an intelligent girl, a political science major, and is also a brilliant artist on the side. She can be a really awesome friend on one level or the other. Now, if Heather is a secretary or a waitress or any other job, you'll hear about heather the artist or heather the poli sci major, or any other detail. But if Heather happens to be working her way through school as a dancer then it's Heather the stripper. And it's always said with that special gleam in the eye that says "Hm, I wouldn't think I had a chance with her but now that I know she's a stripper then that means I'm gonna get some and she's more adventuresome than your usual girl." Never mind that she basically sees all that crap as a way to earn a living. Never mind that she has heard every line out there a million times over, and most likely is pretty jaded about the whole thing, or in the very least picky. Chances are said girl has a certain iota of confidence if she's willing to discard modesty on a nightly basis. If she doesn't have a partner already it's probably because she's fairly particular. In which case, she can pretty much get anyone she wants. She probably has turned down lawyers, doctors and CEOS. So where does that hopeful gleam come from?
I remember how often I used to be asked by males I considered friends if they could see me at work. I generally refused but was always baffled they would even ask. I mean, I assumed the request was a flirtatious overture as they wouldn't ask to visit me at work if I were a telemarketer. Wouldn't it be better to ask to go out to coffee, or dinner or some such thing? It certainly would be less seedy. I remember some friends wouldn't even ask permission, they would show up without asking or even after I had told them no, don't come in. And they would be baffled that I ignored them.
 As I reach thirty I start reflecting on my youth. I must say that life is better now. I had a lot of happy memories of those times. Nice, late hours. Meeting friends at 3 AM in a diner after I got off work and sleeping until noon. A lot of close bonds, a lot of dear friends, a lot of good music, good money and fun times. But when one of my friends who are young, 20 or 22, and are intrigued by my past, I give them the low down. I give them the good and the bad and I suppose it's a much needed dose of realism to have done that.
 Sometimes it isn't so easy, to work hard at a secretarial work and to have a stuffier environment for less pay...or even when I first quit the business and took a six dollar an hour phone job. But I had good times there, I had friends and when people met me, and I told them I did market research, and I told them I did a comic book they were more interested in my comic book than my job.
 And overall life is good. I have fond memories of those times and am glad the past is behind me. I still see bits of nostalgia whenever I watch a mob movie, but I enjoy the world of a stable relationship, domesticity with two cats. I am happy that I have acquired marketable skills and am going back to school to get the ones in something I really want to do with my life.
 I do miss the exercise, but my new apartment will have a tennis court and both an  indoor and outdoor swimming pool. Exercise feels so good, is so stress relieving. And right about now, forcing Rob to play tennis with me is much more appealing....

 february          pontifications