Tonight I went to a panel about Jewish delis, and if they had a future at all, let alone an environmentally sustainable one. Two of the panelists ran a deli around the corner, one was Michael Pollan (he lives here), one had a radio show and a recent book, and one was an urban farmer in W Oakland, one of those very poor areas that they call food desserts, I think, all liquor stores and barbecue joints and churches, but no groceries or produce markets. It wasn’t all that interesting, didn’t learn anything new, and I don’t like pastrami, corn beef, or huge meat sandwiches, grass-fed or not. Just bacon, pepperoni, kielbasa, hotdogs. Not a good Jew, apparently, which may be ok for an atheist.
Yesterday I finally went on a date. We went hiking, then ate pizza/beer, then I seduced him. All I’m going to really say is that it’s a whole lot better for stress relief and peace of mind than exercise. Maybe I’d do better cutting back on exercise if I could do that regularly. I got up and went to the gym anyway this morning, full autopilot, didn’t even occur to me until I was halfway there that I didn’t really feel like the gym. I always go on Tuesdays at 11, kickboxing then strength training, and since I already paid bridge toll, I went anyway.
Walking back from the panel tonight, I am walking on the empty side of the street. I notice a voice behind me, been there a while. I don’t have the best hearing, and I can’t tell what she’s saying, though I hear a word occasionally. I cross the street, she does too. It sounds as if she’s about 10 feet behind me. I start to speed up, and she does too. I probably appear mildly drunk, I’m too tired to fully pick my feet up, and I stumble over raised sidewalks occasionally. Every muscle in my body is buzzing from the gym, I don’t feel like walking fast, may not be able to outpace her, and don’t feel like hearing her anymore. I turn around 180, walk back towards her. She’s wearing a blanket over her head, can’t tell much about her. She stops, looks really startled. I scream right in her face, she takes a step back, and screams too. For a second, I think she’s going to hit me, then she looks as if she thinks I’ll hit her. “Look, you damn *%^#$, quit *(%^)))&Y& following me. And shut the hell up.” She starts talking very loud about Berkeley bitches, but no longer follows me. As I shuffle away, I still can’t understand her.
Today I weigh 147, even though I had a heavy breakfast, and hadn’t gone to bathroom yet. The number is dropping again, maybe faster since I started cooking at home more. The scale really isn’t sensitive enough to tell me what works or not, and I’m not consistent enough in anything. But whatever, I’m officially not overweight by BMI, and I’m still losing.