First off, thanks to Adam, Benjamin, and Tess for joining the cause. The cause being, of course, total Webospheric domination. You can't dominate without true believers. (Unless you have a well organized and ruthless militia to do your bidding, that is.)
The title of this post refers to both my revising, which is still coming along slowly, and the weight loss, which is coming along both slowly and painfully.
Shall we discuss the writing first? The novel is 147 pages long. Two days ago I revised the first 80 and I'm happy with them. Then there's a sticky part in the middle that I can't figure out how to fix. To bore you, it involves two characters who need to become friends, the passage of about a month and half's worth of time, and some other stuff that isn't all that interesting but needs to be in there for purposes of the rest of the story. Secret Asian Man and his minions believe this is an important part of the book because a number of transformative things occur. I attempted to summarize these transformations because I didn't want the story to bog down. For the record, I summarized them rather cleverly. However, SAM thinks more weight should be given to this part of the book, so now I'm stuck. The last 40 pages are in pretty good shape, which means that if I can figure out the bloody middle, the rest should go quite smoothly.
And now the weight loss. First, I'm not that fat. I'm not going to tell you how not-fat I am, but you can review the video at the bottom of this post and get a pretty accurate assessment. I'm fatter than I wish to be. About twenty pounds so.
Second, I did buy new shoes. Got 'em at Kohl's. Asics. 50 bucks. Now I know some of you are shaking your heads and thinking something like, Fifty bucks! Must be crappy shoes. I have no idea whether they're crappy or not. What I know is this: I walk and jog in them for no more than forty-five minutes at a time. They'll do. My legs are already feeling better.
So, the numbers. I started this weight loss thing on Sunday, June 7. I then consumed a massive amount of calories while on a golf trip that weekend. So I think it's fair to say that I really started on Sunday, June 14. As of right now, I have exercized on ten of those eleven days. ("Exercize" is defined here as either a 2.5 mile run/walk outside or a forty-five minute run/walk on the treadmill.) I have also been starving myself. Results? Two lousy, good-for-nothing pounds. Two.
I poop two pounds. Seriously.
This is completely irrelevant, but...
I really appreciate everything you do*, but two things: One, could you at least try to wait until I've swallowed to ask me how everthing is? Two, when you ask how everything is, could you please refrain from saying, "How's everything tasting?" Food cannot taste. It is, presumably, dead. It can't really do much of anything except sit there waiting to be consumed. I, however, am alive and have taste buds on my tongue. I can taste.
"How does your food taste?"
"How is the food?"
(Of course, this part of the post has nothing to do with any recent dinner out. I don't do that anymore. On a diet and all, remember?)
*For example, refilling my Coke when it's still half full so that I feel obligated to drink way more than I should; bringing my entree mere seconds after the appetizer so that I have to make an excruciating decision between continuing to eat the (delicious, appetizers are always delicious) appetizer and letting my meal get cold or abandoning the appetizer, which is almost always overpriced, so that I can enjoy my dinner before the cheese starts doing that funky, congealing thing that's really not so appealing; and tempting me with dessert even though I just stuffed down both a delicious appetizer and an entire cheesy meal, not to mention the seventy-two ounces of Coke that someone just could not stop pouring into my glass.
(I'll have the cheesecake, thank you.)