Today being Thursday, I stepped on the scale for the official weekly weigh-in. All those other days don’t count – it’s just information. Heh. Thursdays are for real.
175. Down another pound. When my body is cooperative, my typical weight loss is about half a pound a week. Metabolisms slow down as the years go by, so any of you youngsters out there reading this, take heed. Figure out what works for you now, get-r-done and avoid the lifetime struggle.
Easier said than done, I know.
Anyhoo … my average weight loss at this very moment is .533333 pounds per week.
The party is tonight! I am – amazingly – on schedule with the cooking and cleaning and Martha-Stewarting. Still have to figure out the photo shoot. Someone who shall remain nameless suggested having five people (I assume she meant guys) paint their chests, á la football fans, with the letters O-B-A-M-A. I reminded her that these guys were, um, old. One is on oxygen. I seriously doubt any of them would be willing to display – well, you get the idea.
This same reader also thought maybe we could play Obama Twister. My husband goes on Medicare in two months and one of our guests will be going to her 60th high-school class reunion this fall. Really, guys, we’re old!
Which, when you think about it, is pretty cool. We’re a roomful of geezers from a seriously red state, retired and inspired by a young, progressive, forward-thinking man who is from a completely different culture and background. His ideas and ideals, though, are ours, and we’re all committed to making his Presidency a reality.
My husband and I were so very proud last night. We figured out that the network to watch is C-Span – no chit-chat, no commentary and we felt like we were right there on the convention floor during the roll call.
Tonight? Maybe I’d better make a Kleenex run.