cynth (cynthtastic) wrote,

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I don't understand. I'm always very nice to wrong numbers. These things happen, and they don't mean to inconvenience me specifically. I always ask them to repeat the name of the person they're trying to reach, just in case it is me or crashrose. Then, I say -- invariably, because I'm very, very methodical -- "I'm sorry; you must have the wrong number." After that, I wait patiently, in case they'd like to verify the number they were trying to dial; it's much easier for both of us if I can let them know whether their dialing or transcription is off without a superfluous, second conversation.

Today, I got a wrong number. She spoke either remarkably broken English or what I assume to be very good Spanish. In either case, I went through the above steps, got as far as "...wrong number," and she hung up on me! Is it me, or is that ignorant in any language? No "sorry," no "goodbye," nothing.

I try always to give people the benefit of the doubt. When I drove, I used to assume the person who cut me off or blew through a red light made a mistake. Haven't we all accidentally cut someone off or blown through a red light? Maybe that person was lost or new to the area. Maybe s/he was just a little off that day. Why assume s/he is an asshole and get mad? To me, that's not easier. In fact, the resultant anger is more likely to linger, fester, and ruin my whole day. Why would I want that?

It isn't any harder to be sympathetic, and I feel especially sorry for people who don't know how to do that or don't bother to try. That must be an awful way to go through life, thinking the worst of everyone, all the time. You could never let your guard down or relax. How do you make friends that way? This is not to say that I'm a possessor of great expectations, far from it! I try not to expect anything at all, so I may be surprised but never disappointed.

Just an observation.

Cut-tagged, so you don't have to read it, if you're sick of me: It rocks!

While saintdani is in San Diego getting her comic con groove on, crashrose and I have been entrusted with the care of her DDR happy fun pad. I still can't get over how something fun can be good for me, and I can't wait to have my own happy fun pad.

For years, I've been trying to get in shape. I've concocted one crazy diet after another. I've tried MetaboLife (or something like that); it burned my tongue when I took it and made my heart race when it kicked in. I've tried to make myself do workouts with various, obnoxious, skinny women who live in my VCR, and I'd be really good for a month or two then fall off the wagon.

While a reasonable diet still eludes me, I'm eating markedly less. That can't be a bad thing. I also refuse to go on some crazy, hateful diet that denies me everything I like. This may sound sad, but food is too big a part of my life for me to ruin it entirely. I like to eat. I like the taste of food, mostly bad food. I'm not going to buy diet Spaghetti Os or fake cookies that taste like cardboard. Moderation may be the best I ever do, and that's good enough for me. It's a hell of a lot better than living on vegetables and biting my tongue most nights because I'm dreaming of food. (Yes, that actually happened.)

To eat less is not enough, however, for any sort of lifestyle change or to lose very much weight. It certainly won't get me in shape, but this DDR thing really could. I mean, it's not toning all everything, and it's not strength training. It is aerobic activity, though, and that's always been the hard part. I have small goals. I'd like to climb a flight of stairs without getting winded. I'm 22; that's not a lot to ask.

I also feel that the other things may fall in place, once I'm on the right track. If I can lose some weight and get some energy, maybe I can start doing those hateful abdominal exercises with Denise Austin again. Maybe this time I'll stick with it, too. It'd be nice to wear a bathing suit without a t-shirt and shorts over it. It'd be nice to go for a walk or a bike ride and not feel like I'm holding everyone else back. I'd like to not get tired first.

You all probably think I'm an ass for going on and on like this about a video game, and that's OK. :) It's just such a strange experience for me. When I was super-thin, I still got winded on the stairs, and I've never liked exercise in any form. It's just kinda nice.
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