Rain and shine

San Diego is normally a very pleasant place. 99% of time it's beautiful here, and we can lord that fact over the rest of the nation. Sure, the median home price is somewhere in the neighborhood of 2 firstborn sons, a crystal from the dragon Zulkhathas, a piece of the Crown Jewels and a big wad of cash, but we have nice weather, for goodness sakes.

It's raining right now, and looks to be doing so for the whole week. Sure, there's tsunamis in Asia and the East and South have record snowfall, but inclement weather shouldn't happen here. Christmas day was somewhat warm, but it just couldn't last.

I romanticize the weather, and it's because I live in this land of the sun. Or "land con suno", as the original Spanish settlers called it. Actually, the Original settlers were Indians, and they just called it "Thank God This Place is Nowhere Near Those White Devils", later renamed "Seriously, Leave Us Alone in One Goddamned Place". I love the rain, and I don't know that I glorify the positive aspects of it so much as completely ignore the negative ones. I don't, for example, think of my car becoming 89.3% rust or flooding. I just think "Yay! Rain!" Same with snow. I don't romanticize hail, however, nor do I think anybody does.

Christmas is past, for which I'm grateful. It's a time when doe-eyed children gleefully wake their doting parents early to open colorfully wrapped toys that they've been openly lusting for. However, since I am neither a parent nor a young child (nor, indeed, doe-eyed) the holiday has become a monotonous trek through crowded malls and stores in search of that special present that will, at the least, not warrant a timid call for the gift receipt. Another popular gift is lottery tickets. This gift is the most selfish one imaginable. If the person loses, no harm done. If they win, of course, then the onus is upon them to recognize your foresight in buying said tickets- in a monetary way, naturally.

Once again, it all comes back to playtime. Adults don't have toys, they have electronics, gadgets and gizmos. They are far, far too busy talking on cell phones and getting expensive and complex coffees and driving to places that sell cell phones and coffee to actually play. If they do play games, they are ones with set rules that must not be violated.

So my plan would be to have an hour a day set aside for play. One hour to build with legos, make up ridiculous games with inflated rubber balls, to crash Hot Wheels into each other. Not toys for adults- just toys. Think of the creativity. And best of all, parents will be waking up early on Christmas, running downstairs and tearing open the box that they think has the MegaDestroyer XR in it.

Fatty fatty fat fat

I can't remember one time in my life where I've been fat. As a kid and teenager, I was always involved in sports and games, and running around like a moron. Like most adults, that crap ended once I got a job. Sitting on one's behind for 8 hours is an excellent way to get a one-way ticket to having to buy two seats on the airplane.
As an adult, there is no such thing as playing. Now, we exercise. There might be a company softball team or something like that, but in reality, we have to drive ourselves to converted warehouses in order to make any progress. There are some advantages, of course- being able to take the treadmill behind the girl with the nice butt. She can give you a look, but you can just shrug and say "Hey, Treadmill".
I was shocked when I was with the wife and we were on some torturous adventure to find decorative towels or some inane material possession, and there was a scale on the ground. Now, the first law of Scales On The Ground is that you must always weigh yourself, followed closesly by the second law, which states that if the first scale does not give you a favorable result, you look for another scale "that isn't broken".
So, in accordance with the laws of Man and God, I stepped on the scale. And to my horror, it reported 200 lbs. 2 bills. I immediately looked around for another scale.
That was all of the impetus I needed. For 5 months, I calculated and ate right and exercised and worked my way back to a relatively svelte 175. I even maintained it relatively well, eschewing my favorite foods like Sugary Cola Drink,Salty Beef-like Snack Food and Sugary Cola Drink 2.
Now, when you sign up for a gym, there is a common knowledge that is shared between you and the gym-contract-guy. This unspoken bond basically says that you will sign up, work hard for between 3 weeks and 4 months or so, and then lose all composure and willpower and be back to eating Sweet Calvin's Doughy Fried Sugar Bombs while sitting on the couch, optionally with your hand in your pants.
You can, as most people do, deny this truth. You can smile sardonically at the gym guy with the sublime knowledge that you are the exception to the rule, and you will dutifully be there for the entire length of your contract, your sculpted bronzed body making a mockery of their supposition that you would fail. This is known as delerium, and you will fail, just like everybody else.
Alas, I have somewhat fallen prey to this demon, aided by it's friends wedding and Thanksgiving. Christmas lurks just beyond the corner, it's glowing sugarplum eyes bearing on me steadily. Yet I am not all gone- I still retain some of my fitness, and I have noticed the problem now, so I can focus and regain (or re-lose) what was lost (gained).
The plan, as I have mapped it out, is to become that sculpted Adonis by summer. Nobody will know of my secret until I whip off my shirt at the beach and, in addition to blinding everyone with my pale skin (Note to self: tan before summer), I will amaze them with my grater-like abs, my huge pectoral muscles, and my buttocks that can crack walnuts- NO! Hazelnuts! All will be amazed by my transformation, and when pressed about it, I will just lay a finger aside my nose and say "Product X!", for I will also have a major endorsement deal with some fitness company, which I forgot to mention previously.

Now, pass the gluten-free concentrated whey isolate. And the fudge ice cream. And forget about that whey crap.