mychai's Diaryland Diary

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New Curse Words? Yep, It's Thursday!

Disappointment.

I went to the Air Force recruiter's office yesterday to get the final OK for me to go to MEPS this week. I already told all of my family I was going. I told everyone at work that they had "better call me sir from now on, Goddammit!" And I was just all around excited about going.

For 24 hours before hand, I decided I would try the Hollywood 48-Hour Miracle Diet. You are supposed to lose something like 80 pounds withing minutes or something like that. I thought it was going to be freakin' amazing...

... until I looked at the ingredient list upon getting home. It is 32 ounces of juice. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less. And for fifteen bucks a pop at Wal-Mart, I think I was officially gypped.

So, if you wanna go on the Hollywood Miracle Diet, save the money and buy a carton of Tropicana or something. Same thing.

Anyway, so I weighed in at 196. This is about 15 pounds from when I started losing weight around April. This is below the weight my recruiter wanted me to be before he sent me to MEPS. But then he threw me a curve with the maximum body fat percentage. For me, it is 20%.

Now... The way they determine body fat percentages is by measuring your waist across your belly button. Then they measure your neck. Subtract the neck measurement from the waist measurement, and, bingo-bongo, there's your body fat.

Not exactly A-1 with science, if you know what I mean. I have measured three times in a row and gotten different measurements each time. Add the variable of someone else measuring me, and I am suddenly skinnier than Shaggy.

Oh, well. Supposedly I am a good-go next week. I'm not getting too overly excited as I don't want to get disappointed again.

I went fishing today. Fishing has always been something that I get excited about doing beforehand, get pissed off as all hell while I do it, and feel pissy and defeated as I go home -- yet anxious to do it again.

As it went today.

On The Good Side:

• I cought three fish: two fish that go under several names (groupie, crappy, etc.) and a small-mouth bass. I didn't keep any of them (see "On The Bad Side").
  
• I was the only person at the lake, therefore it was nice, peaceful, and quiet.
  
• I got to try out some really kewl profanity, much that I had made up on the spot, and most that probably broke more than one item of the Ten Commandments.

On The Bad Side:

• I forgot to bring any kind of bucket or gill string to keep my catch, therefore the really nice fish I cought couldn't have been eaten. Oh, well. It was fun enough to just catch the fish.
  
• I accidentally stepped on the small styrofoam container that contained all of my worms. So, most of the time, I fished with little bits of goo. This was one of the high points in my profanity usage today.
  
• I somehow ended up slinging my bobber half-way across the lake. It took me a good hour to fish it out (no pun intended), and when I finally got it (it was my only one and I needed it to fish), I saw that it had broken.
  
• I finally got it back on, threw my line out, and snagged on something big and useless at the bottom of the lake. I finally had to break my line, surrendering my hook to the lake. No problem, I thought. I'll just tie on another one and be good to go.
  
• Nope. I was out of hooks. I finally decided to give up and make the long walk to my car, uttering every variation of the "F Word" I could muster.

I came home and hopped in the shower to get off all of the worm goo. As soon as the hot water hit, I realized I had forgotten to put on sun screen. Gawd, I hate fishing. I'm never doing it again.

Well... After tomorrow, I mean. I'm going down to the Lake of the Ozarks. Hopefully I can pull out a few large-mouth bass.

Well, I am off. I am hankering for a bit of a nap.

One last thing before I go. Click Here to see my beautiful window garden. The quality of the picture ain't all that great because I didn't feel like touching it up. But isn't it nice?

Thanks!

5:31 p.m. - Thurs., June 6, 2002

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